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David V. Bush. 











SOUL POEMS 


= AND 

OTHER VERSE 



By DAVID V. IjjUSH 

The Peace Poet 

Author of “Pike s Peak or Bust” 

and 

Poet-Editor of 

“Humorous Verse on Current Events” 




Copyright, 1916 

by 

David V. Bush 



DEC 18 1916 


©CI.A453120 

/ K^> v | • 


Dedication 


To the Great Woman Triumverate: 

My Faithful Mother : 

Whose determination and example kept the 
spark of ambition alive; whose efforts blazed 
a foot hold in life's steepest mount: 

My Loyal Wife : 

Whose encouragement and love in the dark 
times when others would have surrendered to 
the enemy, Misfortune, helped to ford life's 
swiftest eddies: 

My Darling Daughter : 

Whose faith and belief in her father’s ulti- 
mate victory against all odds, was ever a bea- 
con light of hope : 

These Three to Whom I am Eternally Indebted, 
This volume is reverently, gratefully and af- 
fectionately dedicated. 


Works of 

DAVID V. BUSH 

o 


“PIKE’S PEAK OR RUST’” 
or 

THE POSSIBILITIES OF THE WILL 

SOUL POEMS AND OTHER VERSE 
PEACE POEMS AND SAUSAGES 
JUST LIGHT STUFF IN VERSE 

INSPIRATIONAL POEMS: 

These virile, vigorous, inspiring Verse are the 
author’s best Inspirational Poems, EXCLUSIVE 
of those in “Soul Poems’’ and “Peace Poems and 
Sausages.” 

“HUMOROUS VERSE ON CURRENT EVENTS 
AND OTHER THINGS” 
is a monthly magazine by D. V. Bush. 

A GET UP AND TAKE OFF 
IN VERSE. 


Sentinel Press, Madison, S, D. 


Preface 


After twenty-two years of continual struggle 
to prepare myself for my life’s vocation, and af- 
ter seventeen years of submersion of my talent 
for writing verse, thru the strenuous efforts tr 
ride the surging tides of life; and after my first 
effort — “Peace Poems and Sausages” — inspired 
me to do more, this book, faulty as it is, has given 
me more pleasure in creating than life had here- 
tofore known. 

This book is another demonstration of my 
“Pike’s Peak or Bust” slogan — we can if we think 
we can. — What is your life’s ambition? You can 
arrive, if you never give up. You may not be as 
great as others, but you can have the pleasure 
that comes with the work you like, no matter how 
stinging is poverty, how blasting is gossip, how 
winding the trail, how rocky the road, how steep 
the mount, how awful the night! 

May the reader imbibe, enjoy and be benefit- 
ed by the same inspiration that this book has 
given me! — D. V. BUSH 























Contents 


LOVE LYRICS— 

My Wish 13 

And I Will Love Thee Still 17 

When She Kissed Those Tears Away. ... 19 

When You Promised To Be Mine 21 

The Love of a Little Child 23 

My True Love 25 

Pitter Patter of Little Feet 26 

Tell Me 30 

No Life Without Love 32 

When My Daughter Says Good Night .... 33 

My Sweetheart Wife 37 

I Love You Yes I Do 39 

When You Are Mine 41 

Loved and Lost . 42 

Love’s Sunset 46 

Love Understands 49 

Sweethearts Forever 51 

The Woman With the Marble Heart .... 53 

My Loyal Wife 58 

Till Death Doth Us Part 59 

The Price of Love 61 

You Are Mine, Mine, Mine 62 

My Wife 64 

Tho Jilted Still I Love 65 

The Unfaithful Wife 68 

Love Forever 69 

Jilted 70 


WAR POEMS— 

The Evolution of War 73 

The Enemy’s Prayer 76 

Somewhere in France 79 

It is Cold in the Trenches 81 

All Europe is Tramping to War 83 

The Product of War 85 

War is Magnificent 87 

The Blasphemy of War 89 

The Soldiers Fate 92' 

Unknown 94 

Pickett's Brave Command 96 

POEMS OF SENTIMENT— 

Friend 101 

Christ the Friendless 104 

Weary Soul ? 107 

The Simple Life 108 : 

Life’s Measure Ill 

How to Have Friends 112 

Christmas 113 

Born Again 115 

In Memorium 117 

Let Me Be Kind 118 

Mother Every Time 120 

Compassion 121 

They Know Not What They Do 123 

Life’s Struggle 125 

Hope Blossoms Eternally 127 

Abundant Source • 129 

Lonely 130 

What Is the Gospel? 132 

Friends of Space 135 

Thankful 136 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS— 

Boost and Maker’er Go 139 

And Still I Will Push On 141 

Poxing Gloves of Pluck 143 

Find Your Work — Then Leap 144 

Use a Little Grit 146 

It s Worth the Price 147 

Vy Can’t It Be Did? 149 

Keep Everlastingly At It 151 

Keep Mum and Plug 152 

We Must Suffer If We Win 154 

By the Living God I’ll Win 155 

CHILD VERSE— 

Sleep Dolly Sleep 159 

Cuddle Up 160 

When Papa Shaves His Face 162 

Riding Papa’s Back 164 

JINK— 

Schlow Down For Der Safety Zone 169 

Buying a Hat 170 

Why Is a Bachelor 172 

Awfully und Vunderfully Made 176 

The Talkative Barber 177 

Fisherman’s Luck 179 

Vacation Time 181 

I Too Half Lofed 184 

Christmas Gifts 185 

Why Man is Bald 188 

Servant Question and Honesty 189 

Horrorscope 190 
































































































My Wish 


Fd rather be loved by a woman true, 
Sincere and pure as pearl; 

Fd rather be loved by my wife and daughter 
Than own the whole wide world. 





LOVE 

LYRICS 






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V 


AND I WILL LOVE THEE STILL 


Somewhere in the ages rolling my soul was meant 
for thine, 

I sought you here and found you, you ever have 
been mine. 

I’ve loved thee from beginning, I’ll love thee to 
the last, 

My sioul was made for thee, my love shall hold us 
fast. 

The power of men and sages, empires and king- 
doms build, 

They’ll sway and then they’ll scatter, but I will 
love thee still. 

When the youngest star in glory is old with hoary 
time 

We’ll still be youthful lovers; with age, our love 
will bind. 

When the “Book of Life” is opened and eternity 
just begun, 

I’ll love thee then and always, till the end of earth 
and sun. 

You have my head, my heart, my very soul and will 

I’ll love till sun' shall crumble, and then I’ll 
love thee still. 


18 


SOUL POEMS 


I'll love thee till the elements dissolve and dis- 
appear, 

And then in all eternity I'll love but you, my dear. 
I love thee, O I love thee ! And I will love thee till 
The world is burned to ashes, and then I'll love 
thee still. 


19 


WHEN SHE KISSED THOSE TEARS AWAY. 

I remember, I remember! My mother’s angel face. 

I remember, I remember, her lovliness and grace. 

Of all the recollections that come to mind today, 

Are times that I was wounded, and she kissed my tears away. 

A knife cut or a stone bruise, a fall, or aching brow, 

I feel those tender fingers as she laid them on me — now ! 
Perhaps the wound was deeper than cut, or bruise, or ache, 
It may be that my feelings felt worse than knife could make. 

When heart and soul were saddest, when — 0 the aching 
heart ! — 

No bandage, salve or ointment, could soothe or do their part, 
Then how my mother blessed me ! then how I heard her say, 
She loved her erring darling, and she kissed my tears away. 

O today how I would nestle ‘neath the shadow of her love ! 
And have her smooth my ringlets (0 the depth of mother 
love !) 

O today I long for mother!— tho a “man” the world would 
say — 

How sweet her loving ‘membrance when she kissed my tears 
away ! 


20 


SOUL POEMS 


Just to have my mother with me, just to nestle close to her, 
Would calm my aching heart throbs and storms that in 
me stir. 

0 to hear her say “My darling all things are well today, 

Ail our trials and all troubles at your mother’s feet now lay.” 

Then to rest in sweet contentment, then to have the heart 
throbs less, 

Then to listen to her singing, and my wounded soul to dress, 
(Ah to me, altho in manhood) would my weary soul allay 
Could I but see my mother as she kissed my tears away ! 


WHEN YOU PROMISED TO 


BE MINE 

Do you remember sweetheart, 
Your promise to be mine? 

No words can ever tell you 
Of the thrill and hope sublime 

Those lovers’ walks together! 
Those moments most sublime! 

To have you ever near me 
And know that you were mine ! 

My heart beat fast and quicker, 
My breath came deep and fast, 

Eyes closed in deepest ecstacy 
In a long, endearing clasp. 

I’d thought of you my Soul mate, 
I’d prayed mine own to find, 

My search was sealed and ended — 
You promised to be mine. 


22 


SOUL POEMS 


Those months, those years of 
waiting ! 

How slow, how slow the time 
Until the wedding over 
And you were really mine ! 

You promised me, you promised ! 

Your soul did mine entwine. 
You’ve been more than you 
promised 

Since you were really mine. 

What matters it if fortune 
And fame I never find 
So long as you are with me, 

And you are mine, all mine?' 


THE LOVE OF A LITTLE CHILD 


In the toil and struggle of the day 
Of the busy, rushing life; 

There's one bright ray of sunshine, 
Atones for all our strife ; 

It creeps into our fiter, 

It makes our wrinkles smile — 
When the day is done and over — 

The love of a little child. 

We read our mail and then we haste 
To dictate answer swift, 

Then turn around and order 
For home a pretty gift, 

We take no time for social life; 

Still rushing all the while — 

But pause again as night draws near 
To love a little child. 


24 


SOUL POEMS 


The tender touch and sympathy 
Of a life that's in the bud 
Brings thoughts and recollections 
A teeming as a flood. 

Our life turns tack; those recollections 
Perfume our souls the while 
As thoughts of days come back again, 
Thru the love of a little child. 

We have no time to hesitate 
From the busy path of toil 
To ever take a day of rest 

From the rush of life’s turmoil; 

But yet we drop the cares of day 
And young again the while 
We think of youth and boyhood 
Thru the love of a little child. 

Tho life be rush and hurry, 

A battle fierce and grave, 

There's one reclaiming feature; 

A mighty force to save ; 

The heart is soft and kind, 

The cares of life more mild 
Because we stop to cultivate 
The love of a little child. 


MY TRUE LOVE 


The day drags on when you’re not near 
And life has only half its zest, 

I miss you sorely sweetheart dear, 

The one of all I love the best. 

I miss your song, your kindly face, 
Your smile — yes that inspiring 

smile — 

Your council and your stately grace; 

In spirit, tho, I live the while. 

Tho far away, this thought to me 

Is worth far more than wealth and 
fame, 

Altho your face I cannot see, 

Your love is constantly the same. 

What greater comfort can man know 
Than “She my wife, is always true.” 

You give me heaven’s joy below, 

I rest secure, my Love, in you. 


26 


SOUL POEMS 


PITTER PATTER OF 
LITTLE FEET 

The day for many at last is over ; 

The sun sinks in the west, 

But work for me is just begun ; 

In my study I pause for rest ; 

The whole household will soon be still ; 

My heart now swells with love 
As I listen to the pitter patter 
Of little feet above- 


They’re having now the'r evening romp 
Oh, what a blessing sure 
To pause and think a moment, 

Of life so young and pure; 

If care has made my heart grow hard 
It now turns into love 
As I listen to the pitter patter 
Of little feet above. 


PITTER PATTER OF LITTLE FEET 


27 


For men I meet are only boys 
In a higher school of life 
And have their sympathetic hearts 
Tho oft’ engaged in strife; 

My eyes are dim, my soul forgives ; 

I return to the fount of love 
As I listen to the pitter patter 
Of little feet above. 

The pitter patter of those dear feet 
At length is heard no more; 

I turn around and read my mail ; 

My wife comes thru the door; 

Our eyes a-blaze with sympathy, 

Our souls afire with love 
As we think of tho e in the crib up- 
stairs — 

Our little ones above. 

We sit beside each ot' er there 
In silence long and deep ; 

Our heart throbs beat together, 

A rhythmic love time keep. 

Our life is now too full to speak, 

The Gordian tie of love 
Is bound so strong that we are one 
By little ones above. 


28 


SOUL POEMS 


We sit a while as lovers young; 

But dearer thru the years — 

And in the soft glow of the light 
I think I see her tears; 

The tears of love so deep and strong; 
Eternal, holy love 

Swell in our bosoms until we're mute — 
Those little ones above. 

I fold my sweet heart to my breast; 

The lover -of long ago, 

And speak again in fire of youth — 
“Sweet heart I love you so ; 

And have I been a husband true, 

Have I been true to love, 

Are there regrets that we’er met — ”? 
They sleep; our ones above. 

The answer comes in accents clear ; 

It makes my heart heat fast — 

“O yes, my faithful sweetheart 
And will be to the last.” 

In silence there we sit again; 

My heart o’er bounds with love 
To know I have my darling wife 
And little ones above. 


PITTER PATTER OF LITTLE FEET 


29 


A sweet good night, and she is gone; 

I turn again to write 
And feel her parting sweet embrace; 

Pm inspired by her all night; 

I write some more ; a tear has dropped — 
Dropped from the fount of love; 

Td give my life, Td g*ve my all 
For her and those above. 

Before I quit my long day’s toil 
I steal alone upstairs 
And have a wistful tender look 
On those who have no cares, 

And offer there a tender prayer ; 

Deep from the fount of love, 

And go again to do my work — 

With little ones above- 

Before I quit and go to bed 
I settle in my chair; 

And think of life, of what’s beyond, 

Of heaven over there, 

And know my heavenly Father there 
Looks down on us with love 
And guides his children’s pitter patter 
Until we go above. 


30 


SOUL POEMS 


TELL ME 

It’s not enough to be loved, 

We want to hear it again, 

That story old and tender, 

As we heard in Lovers’ Lane 

That lane it has no ending, 

The holy lover’s lane, 

To those who really love, 

So let me hear it again. 

< ‘I love you as of old, dear,” 

How sweet, how sweet to hear ! 

Altho I’ve heard it often, 

Repeat to me, do dear.” 

The heart and soul of humans 
From the cradle to the grave. 

Cry out for love — repeat it 
For loving words we crave. 

“I love you dear, I love you,” 

Of course I know you do, 

But don’t forget to tell me, 

“I love you, yes I do.” 


TELL ME 31 

Your eyes speak love a shining, 

Your actions tell the same, 

But still I want to hear it, 

So tell me once again. 

“I love you yes, I love you,’’ 

How sweet the glad refrain! 

“I love you, yes I love you” 

Repeat it once again. 


32 


SOUL POEMS 


NO LIFE WITHOUT LOVE 

What is life without a true woman 
Who loves you and ever will love? 
There’s nothing at all compares to it. 
Not even from heaven above. 


What is life without that true woman, 
Who loves with her soul so true? 
Why it’s heaven here among mortals, 
If there’s one who truly loves you. 


But should she turn false — a traitor — 
Betray the confidence gained, 

Ah then it’s man’s worst sorrow, 

When love is ruthlessly slain. 


Pray save us from such a woman, 
A woman degraded and base 
And make us loyal forever, 

Then no heart sobs or disgrace. 


WHEN MY DAUGHTER SAYS GOOD 
NIGHT 


The home life has *ts many cares, 
Likewise its many joys; 

And they who give us much of each — 
Our daughters and our boys. 

If they go wrong our souls are sad, 
And that’s life’s greatest blight. 
There's one of my supremest joys — 
When daughter says good night. 


Have words been said which s:ar our 
souls, 

Have unkind acts been done 
That hurt some one or cut like steel 
— For all of us do wrong — 

Ah then it is as night draws near, 

All things are set aright ; 

For just fcefore we say our prayers 
And daughter says good night 


34 


SOUL POEMS 


We talk it over, make amends 
And pray for love and peace, 

And just as we must be forgiven, 

We forgive and troubles cease. 

Then what a consolation comes 
When things are set aright; 

With tender heart and sympathy 
My daughter says good night- 

And all thru life I rest at ease, 

I never shall repine 
Nor shall I bow my head in shame; 

That darling, daughter mine! 

Her heart is trie, l:er soul is pure; 

And no immoral blight 
I know shall ever cross my path — 
When daughter says good night. 

Her tender ways, her deepest love, 

Her soul so pure and true 
Beams from her eyes and countenance. 

My daughters love! It's you 
Whom father trusts — he know^s your 
heart. 

Your father’s one delight! 

Your sympathy and loyalty 

Speak when you say good night. 


WHEN MY DAUGHTER SAYS GOOD NIGHT 35 


I bend above her ted to see 
A face that makes me weep 
For joy in her enduring love - 
“May angels vigil keep, 

Guide and guard her all the way 
And keep her feet a-right”; 

I pray and then I rest at ease, 
When daughter says good night. 

Fll never have to worry, dear, 

I know you’re true as steel; 
Just like your mother all the time; 

That truth I always feel. 

No matter, dear, where I may be, 
Altho far out of sight ; 

Your loyalty is pledged to me 
As when you say good night. 

Your pure mind, your loyal soul, 
Your virtue and your love 
Are ever with me on life’s way 
And will be “up above ” 

Your sympathy, your loyalty 
Again speak true and bright; 

1 recollect — ah sweetest joy — 

My daughter’s fond good night. 


36 


SOUL POEMS 


I don’t forget wl at I owe you 
For loyalty and truth ; 

And when I’m tempted to do wrong 
I think of you and youth. 

I want to be a better Dad 
And mat e our home more bright. 

I daily am inspired by you 

My daughter’s fond good night. 


MY SWEETHEART WIFE 


There's a girl to whom I gave my heart 
In the long and distant past, 

She took iry love and gave me hers; 
She’ll love while life shall last. 

I rest serene in t v at girl’s love, 

And have for many a year, 

She is my angel guide 

The world has not her peer. 

That face comes back to greet me, 

Her face I see tonight — 

I feel the soft warm heart throbs 
And know that all is right. 

There’s a swe t young face before me, 
I loved in times a-gone, 

That face is ever with me 
And has been all along. 

No years can ever mar that face, 

Life’s lines are on its page; 

Its sweetness and its beauty 
Will grow with years and age. 


38 


SOUL POEMS 


There’s a girl to whom I gave my heart 
In the long and long ago, 

She’ll be my faithful sweetheart 
Until life’s tide is low. 

She’s one I have loved and trusted. 

She ever has been true ; 

To her I sing my praises — 

My darling wife, it’s you- 

You’re still my joy and sunshine. 

And will be to the end ; 

You give me all the pleasure 
That heaven and life could send. 

I drink life’s deepest nectar 
To you my faithful bride, 

And thank the fates that ever we 
Could travel side by side. 

And when life’s journey’s over 
Our love will never die; 

Our hearts will beat in union 
In the land beyond the sky. 


I LOVE YOU, YES I DO 

Of all the women in all the world 
There's only one for me, 

And that’s the one I swore to love, 
In fancy now I see. 

At home she’s waiting patiently; 

She loves in sun or dew; 

And far away I swear again, 

I love you, yes, I do. 

Perhaps I do not show my love 
In all the ways I ought, 

But truly, now, I long to be 
The lover that you sought. 

Where I have failed, I would atone, 
I’d be your lover true, 

And really try my very best — 

I love you, yes, I do. 


40 


SOUL POEMS 


Perhaps Fm too absorbed in work, 
Play not the lover's part 
And do not show a husband's care, 
But yet you have my heart. 

And I shall try to do my best 
For years are all too few, 

I'll be your loyal lover hence — 

I love you, yes, I do. 


I could not live without your love, 
I’ve sworn it oft before 
And tho I oft seem negligent, 

1 love you as of yore. 

And still I shall while life shall last; 

While skies are dark or blue 
I’ll love with all my heart and soul — 
I love you, yes, I c o. 


WHEN YOU ARE MINE 


There are other girls but none like you, 
My heart is all your own, 

No matter what you say or do, 

My love for you shall burn. 

There's only one true love in life, 

And known by very few; 

I'm lonely, O so lonely! 

For my heart belongs to you. 

When you but say the word, sweetheart, 
The word that makes you mine, 
Then happy, I'll be happy! 

For I am thine, thine, thine! 


42 


SOUL POEMS 


i 


LOVED AND LOST 

True love is the crowning gift to man 
It comes some time to all, 

But woe to him and woe to her, 

Should their idol ever fall! 

* ********** 

The old folks sit on the old homestead. 
Lonely and sad to night. 

Their token of love in the window, there. 
Expressed in a burning light. 

They sit in tears, in sighs, in sobs, 

For her who went away, 

The one they love with all their souls — 
O where is she today? 

She gave her love to a city chap, 

To one so neat, and tall ; 

He promised life and luxury, 

His love, his soul, his all. 

She loved as only a woman can, 
Betrayed, her love so true, 

And when she learned that he was 
false — 

My God, what could she do?! 


LOVED AND LOST 


43 


She left at night when stars were 
dim, 

In the shadows felt her way, 

No note, no word to parents fond — 
She treads alone today! 

They hope, they pray, they cry, they 
moan, 

For one who went away, 

They keep the light a-burning though — 
Their sign of love alway. 

(Her child has gone the “way that’s 
best.”) 

On out-cast billows tossed, 

No friend, no love, no home, no hope! 
Because she loved and lost. 

The old folks sit by their lone fire side, 
Weary and sad to night, 

Their token of love in the window there 
Expressed in a burning light. 

They moan for a child, they know not 
where, 

On social billows tossed 
Is she, a lone out cast tonight, 

Because she loved and lost. 

His love he promised all to her: 

On loveless waves she’s tossed, 

She gave her love to a faithless man — 
Another loved and lost! 


44 


SOUL POEMS 


He cast her life in misery, 

Her love, tremendous cost: 

Another “ideal” crushed and dead 
Because she loved and lost. 

Some women love to “reform a man,” 
Such love will never win, 

If he won’t change before they’re wed 
She’ll lose her hold on him. 

Many a heart is aching now 
In the breasts of women kind, 
Because she loved net well but deep — 
True love she did not find. 

Many a heart is aching tonight 
In the breasts of valiant men, 
There’s many a love received its blight 
That naught can ever mend. 

Those hearts were happy as hearts 
could be, 

Their path another crossed, 

And now they’re doomed to ache for aye 
Because they loved and lost. 

O faithless dame, O faithless man, 
Could you but see the pain, 

There’d be no faithless pledges made, 
No hearts and souls thus slain. 


LOVED AND LOST 


45 


There’s no remorse, there’s no despair, 
No toll equal the cost 
To man or woman here on earth, 

To the soul that loved and lost. 

True love is the crowning gift to man, 
It comes some time to all. 

God’s pity to her, God’s pity to him 
Should ever their idol fall! 


46 


SOUL POEMS 


LOVE’S SUNSET 

We stood together long years ago 
As the sun sank in the west; 

Our hearts aglow as I whispered then, 
“You’re the one I love the best.” 

No answer came, our hearts beat fast 
Too full of love to speak ; 

The heart throls spoke that you were 
mine— 

And the sunset seemed a week. 

No time in all my life so sweet, 

Not once so full of life, 

I claimed you there, you promised me; 
And the sun set for the night. 

But many times since that great night 
Has life been just as dear; 

Our hearts have warmed and closer 
grown 

With each sun set each year. 

And every time the sunset’s glow 
Is seen out in the West 
My thoughts are with my sweetheart 
dear, 

The girl I love the best. 


LOVE’S SUNSET 


47 


And with the sunsets all these years 
I’ve thought of you and then 

Of the time you promised to be mine, 
Of that sunset o’er the glen. 

How many times our hearts have burned 
With love a-glow and new 

As life’s experiences we shared 
And the sunset never knew. 

We stood beside a casket small, 

Our hearts all wrapped in pain; 

We kissed our little one goodbye — 

And the sun set once again. 


How many times w^e’ve stemmed the tide 
Of sorrow and of care ; 

How many times we’ve closer grown 
As the sun set over there. 


The sunset never knew sweetheart 
Of all our j<oy and care ; 

It never can, it never will, 

The sunset large and fair. 


And as each sunset comes and goes 
Our hearts are closer knit, 

Our love is sweeter, dearer, deeper, 
With the sun won’t fade one bit. 


48 


SOUL POEMS 


Ah, all these years, my sweetheart true. 
Each sunset in the west 
Has drawn you closer to my heart 
The girl I love the best. 

Sweetheart, my soul is full of love, 
You’ve ever been the best — 

I live again that first sunset, 

That sunset in the west. 

And wdien old age shall claim us both, 
Life’s sunset glows the w^est 
You’ll be my sweetheart all the more 
The one I love the best. 

And if perchance you leave me first — 
Cross the border with the rest, 

I’ll think of you at each sunset, 

The girl I love the best. 

And you will wait for me o’er there 
As sunsets gild the west, 

And when I come we’ll love for aye. 
This girl I love the best. 


LOVE UNDERSTANDS 


Each person has his sorrow, 

Each woman her day of tears, 

When we think not of the morrow 
Nor ble^s'ngs we've had thra the 
years. 

Ah, it’s then that hearts are aching 
When we need a true and helping hand 
When our souls and spirits seem break- 
ing — 

O who will understand? 

Then it is if marriage is holy, 

Our wife stands faithful beside; 

No service to her is too lowly, 

No sorrow but she will abide. 

Or daughter lovingly comes to you 
And waits your every command : 

“Tho all earth should ever desert you 
We know, we understand.” 


50 


SOUL POEMS 


For years we've hidden our sorrow 
From our loved ones, who’d ever be 
true, 

No trouble for them we borrow, 

Tho they’d all share gladly with you. 

So there’s mother and wife and daugh- 
ter; 

There’s a son — the test in the land — 

They’d all go thru fire and water — 
True love will understand. 

There are tho e who cla : m to te loyal 
But use you for their end 

And know not how to be loyal, 

They would desert, betray a real 
friend. 

Above “friendship,” riches and glory, 
Give me love which ever will stand — 

True love with its same “old story” — 
’Tis love will understand. 

I love with a love ever burning 
For you my dear ones at home, 

For you my heart is e’er yearning 
Tho hither and t iither I roam. 

When burdens of life seem greater 
Than all of my strength could stand 
God bless you now and forever 
You e’er did understand. 


SWEETHEARTS FOREVER 


Of all women in all the worl :1 
I've ever met or seen. 

There's only one I’d ever crcwn 
As re:al and as queen. 

And that's the ene who has my love, 

The one who's dear to me, 

The one thru time who's stood the test — 
My wife — sweetheart — 'tis thee. 

You've proved a sweetheart tried and 
true, 

A wife none could surpass ; 

Today you’re just as dear and sweet — 
My fconnie sweetheart lass. 

Tho years shall furrow on your brow 
Wrinkles of time and care, 

You‘ll be to me far sweeter still, 

Life's garden rose most rare. 


52 


SOUL POEMS 

And we shall live and love as now 
In every kind of weather, 

Tho time and age shall call us old 
We’ll te sweethearts forever. 

And when our life on earth is done 
And we have crossed the heather. 
Our souls shall still be knitted fast 
And we’ll love on forever. 


THE WOMAN WITH THE MARBLE 
HEART 

She’ll take your gifts and give you 
smiles, 

But when your lack is turned 
On other men she 11 use her wiles — 
Your tender love is spurned. 

She has no sympathy or love, 

She’s practiced well this art, 

She wants to use you as a toy — 

The woman with a marble heart. 

Many men would seek her love 
And faithful they would be, 

They’d give their life, they’d give their 
all, 

Climb mounts or cross the sea ; 

They never dreamed she could be false 
Knew not her wiles and art 
Until she cast them all aside — 

The woman with the marble heart. 


54 


SOUL POEMS 


Her siren call of lust and greed 
You do not understand, 

You really think she is true gold, 

She's worse than live quick sand. 
‘'Advance'' her “love"? Of course she 
will 

Use many wiles and dart; 

But it is only for herself — 

The woman with a marble heart- 

She loves all men, a certain way, 

(Tho sworn to love one man) 

And just delights to have them near, 

To caress and “hold her hand." 

Her lust and passion ; wild and free 
-She bestows with daring art 
Upon all men — tho one is true — 

The woman with the marble heart. 

Her husband, she has used the same 
As “sweethearts' and as toys ; 

She has him for a go-between 

While she “loves" the other “boys." 
For years that man has lived and loved.. 

A serpent in her art 
Until he learns — then suicides 
For one with a marble heart. 


THE WOMAN WITH A MARBLE HEART 


55 


A crash will come, she 11 win no more, 
No sorrow could be worse; 

She’ll only live in a checkered past 
In sadness and remorse; 

For what we sow we’re bound to reap 
(Morality or art) 

The time will come when all is o’er 
For the woman with the marble 
heart. 

Ah, then she’ll think of those true men, 
Whose love would e’er abide, 

She’ll envy wives they’ve sued and won 
When she cast them aside. 

She laughed at men who really loved, 
She scorned and plied her art, 

She led them on, to tears and death — 
The woman with a marble heart. 

She’ll try again to win some man, 

A man who’s true as steel, 

But the time has past, her life is known, 
By instinct men can feel 
Her ways and means are not sincere. 

She lost the old time art, 

She tries in vain, with tears she pleads— 
The woman with the marble heart. 


56 


SOUL POEMS 


She's lived her life of lust and greed, 
Of selfishness and pride; 

She sits alone without a friend ; 

Ah, better had she died 
Before she ev£r broke men's hearts 
And plied her wiles and art. 

Her fate is sad, no time to mourn 
For the woman with the marble heart 


She lives — ah, bitter — in the past. 

Her lovers in her dreams 
Come up to her and sue again, 

On them, her old way beams : 

She tries to pledge a love that’s false, 
She can't — she’s lost her art, 

She wakes to find all desolate — 

The woman with the marble heart. 


Alone, forsaken, — her husband dead — 
She killed in sweet loveland — 

She longs for times a-gone, — instead 
Come “reapers” silent hand: 

In grief she waits alone for death, 

It comes — despite her “art.” 

There’s none to weep or drop a flow T er 
For the woman with the marble heart. 


THE WOMAN WITH A MARBLE HEART 


57 


No one? Just wait. The funeral's 
o'er; 

A man comes to the grave, 

A man who many years ago 
To her his whole love gave ; 

When cast aside, with a broken soul 
He left — lived far apart — 

He spent a lonely bachelor life 

For the woman with a marble heart. 

With head deep bowed and reverent love, 
His heart full to the brim, 

He thinks of what a different end, 

Had she been true to him. 

He drops a tear and weeps alone, 

He suffered thru her “art," 

His love was scorned, his heart did bleed 
For the woman with a marble heart. 


58 


SOUL POEMS 


MY LOYAL WIFE 

In the land of love and lovers, 

In the garden bed of life, 

There's only one fair rose bud — 

My loyal faithful wife. 

If things go wrong — miscarry — 

If times are out of joint, 

If life is dark and gloomy, 

To hopeland you do point. 

There’s always love and sunshine, 
Your face with beams, a-glow, 
And when, “Life’s not worth living,” 
You see the tr ght rain bow. 

There’s always hope and joyland 
In our efforts just ahead, 

And if life’s plans miscarry, 

We, “profit while we tread.” 

In the land of love and lovers, 

In the garden bed of life, 

There’s only one prime rose bud — 
My loyal, loving wife. 


TILL DEATH DOTH US PART 


Sweetheart, yiou’re the soul of my be- 
ing, 

The one I know who is true, 

With you life is worth living, 

And the skies forever are blue. 

Just to know you love me today 
Brings to me life's compensation; 
Just to know you will love me for aye, 
Is worth all life and creation. 

No worry if you will be true; 

No doubt if your love, dear, shall last ; 
So I rest in sweet love with you, 

'Tis worth all the trials that are past. 

Yes I know you love and will love me, 
What else need a man ask beside, 
Just be loved, and ever to love thee? 
Then heaven on earth doth abide. 

Yes, darling your love seems to me, 

The jewel in life's coronet; 

All praises and joys to my sweetheart, 

• That you and I ever met. 


60 


SOUL POEMS 

Just to have you love me my sweetheart, 
Ah yes, that love crowns my life; 
Your love is life’s greatest blessing — 
The love of my sw'eet, loyal wife. 

May angels guard us together; 

May memories sweet light your soul; 
May our love entwined live forever; 
May life and death us enfold. 


THE PRICE OF LOVE 


I sought the world over, my darling 
To find you, the joy of my heart; 

Pd rest not now or forever 

Should it be our love were to part. 

There's nothing this side eternity, 
There's nothing beyond the dark 
tomb 

Can separate us, my darling, 

In eternity our love shall find room. 

My soul is knitted to your soul 

By bonds of love which cannot break, 

My heart beats passion for you dear, 
I’d give heaven up for your sake. 


62 


SOUL POEMS 


YOU'RE MINE, MINE, MINE 

Our lives were made each for the other, 
I feel it in my soul, 

I could not live apart from thee 
No more than pole touch pole. 

God surely meant that you're for me 
And will be for all time; 

Your life was fashioned for my life. 
You’re mine, all mine! 

If we should chance to separate 
By ocean or by land, 

There’s still that silver cord of love 
That binds us hand to hand. 

That cord of love is like a rope 
With many threads so fine, 

That makes a tie that naught could 
break — 

You’re mine, mine, mine! 


YOU’RE MINE, MINE, MINE 


63 


Your crimson cheek, your holy smile, 
That sparkling, winsome eye; 

No demons' strength, or angel power 
Could part us if they try. 

Y"our smooth warm hand, your auburn 
hair; 

Your heart with mine beats time: 
Aye naught can separate our love 
You’re mine, mine, mine! 

There’s more than flesh and beating 
heart 

That binds our hearts as one; 

A higher tie that claims our life — 

Our souls are as but one. 

My soul’s for you and you’re for me, 
My life, my soul are thine, 

The very fibre of all you are 
Is mine, mine, mine! 


64 


SOUL POEMS 


MY WIFE 

My soul is bound to your soul 

With bonds that naught can sever 
Our love shall last eternal, 

We’ll love forever and ever- 


THO JILTED STILL I LOVE 


Where are you, love? Fve long forgot 
You spurned my love — I knew — 

I’m searching now the wide world -o'er 
Since he's forsaken you. 

I'd give my life, I’d give my soul 
That I might live and do 
For you as I have aften planned, 

My heart belongs to you. 

Come back to me, where’er you are. 

Tho he has teen untrue 
My love is just as constant, dear, 

As when I sued for you. 

A love like mine can never die, 

Tho he has held you fast. 

I loved you when he married you 
And will unto the last. 

Come back to me. Come back to me ! 

My heart cries out in pain. 

Oh ! he cannot our love subdue — 

We do not love in vain. 


66 


SOUL POEMS 


I love you, 0 I love you! 

Tho you have gone away. 

I love you, 0 I love you ! 

Where are you, dear, today? 

Come back to me the one you love, 
Sweetheart come back to me! 

You loved me when you wed for wealth, 
You’ll love in eternity. 


0 let me know where’er you are, 

Just say the word my dear! 

The wrong you did has been forgot, 

I love as yester-year. 

1 love you, 0 I love you ! 

Where are you, dear, today? 

Come back to me, come back to me, 

I plead, I beg, I pray! 

We’ll live as one for rest of life, 

Forget the cruel fate 
That tore you from my bleeding heart, 
Your only true, soul-mate. 

You love me, yes, you love me, 

Our hearts in union beat 
Tho you’re today, i know not where— 
Our hearts in silence meet. 


THO JILTED STILL I LOVE 


67 


O let me press you to my breast ; 

My very soul ; s tliine; 

And I'll forget, forgive and ] ovg 
As I have all the time. 

Come back to me, come back to me ! 

Let us forget the past; 

Where'er you are, I love you dear 
And will unto the last 


68 


SOUL POEMS 


THE UNFAITHFUL WIFE 

Have you ever been downcast and sad? 

Has the woman you love been untrue? 
Have you ever felt you would go mad? 
Has your heart been pierced thru and 
thru? 

Has the woman you love betrayed you? 

Have you cried aloud thru the night, 
“My Co: 1 , pray what s'" all I do?” 

Until the break of the light? 

Has the woman you love teen untrue? 
Have you cried in the trial, did you 
sigh? 

Has the breach torn your heart thru 
and thru? 

Have you prayed just to lie down and 
die? 

Take true love away from man’s bein'.; 

And it’s better he’d never been born; 
When love has fled and is fleeing 
Man’s heart is cruelly torn. 

When love leaves then nothing re- 
maineth. 

0 women who are making men weep. 
Remember the Scripture that sayeth; 
“Whatsoever ye sow, ye shall reap.” 


LOVE FOREVER 


Just to know there's one who loves me, 
Just to know our love will not end, 
Just to love her and be loved forever, 
Is a blessing that heaven can’t send. 

O no, my love will not die, dear, 

It will last eternity thru, 

And you will love me forever — 
Forever the love of us two. 


70 


SOUL POEMS 


JILTED 

My soul is starved, it’s dying 
For you, my love, my own ; 
The wild winds near it sighing. 
The night winds hear it mioan. 


WAR POEMS 


<* 















EVOLUTION OF WAR— BUTCHERY 

In ages past, in cave men's time, 

A man to war oft went 

To slay some game to eat; or sport — 
Thus energy expent; 

Or maybe round the dwelling came 
A fellow enemy, 

They had no courts ; so fought it out — 
But now it's butchery. 

Then when the clans nil clubbed as one 
To hold and keep their own 

, (For other clans became hostile 
And sought to wreck that home) 

In self defense those clans combined 
To fight their enemy; 

Ah, then they fought and had a chance, 
But now it's butchery. 


74 


WAR POEMS 


Then when the clans evolved enough 
To have a nation strong; 

Inventions were discovered then 
To settle right or wrong, 

From staves and arrows, spears and 
lance 

To fight their enemy 
They then evolved to gun and sword, 
And soon to butchery- 

Yet men could fight and have a chance 
When first the guns came out, 

But when it came to shooting miles 
It changed the personal bout; 

So when a fighter cannot face 
Or meet his enemy 
But fights miles off and in a trench, 
IPs only butchery. 

To aim and fire, to shoot and kill, 

And give man not a chance, 

But use such awful shells and guns 
Instead of spears and lance, 

Takes from the days of self defense 
And saving property 
The equal chance to save himself, 

And makes it butchery. 


EVOLUTION OF WAR— BUTCHERY 75 

So when man’s hurled against the tide 
Of cannon, shot and lead; 

When he can’t fight and have a chance 
To save his home or head 
But just becomes a cog or bolt 
In such machinery, 

It’s no defense, it is not war, 

It’s only butchery. 


76 


WAR POEMS 


THE ENEMY'S PRAYER 

When bugles sound, with mighty bound 
Men leap into the fray ; 

Before the fight both day and night 
They kneel to God and pray. 

The tall white man or heathen clan 
As enemies then kneel 

And pray to Him that they may win — 
On slaughter put His seal! 

Each side in war is praying for 
Success and victory; 

They pray to Him to let them win, 

To slay their enemy. 

“On sea and land, O God we stand:” 
They pray to kill and win, 

“Be with our side” — (all love has died) 
To kill THEM is no sin! 

“Give to our men in field and glen 
A nervy steady hand 

So that each shot shall strike the spot 
And kill our picked out man. 


THE ENEMY’S PRAYER 


77 


“And let our eye range field and sky, 
Be ever quick to see 
The rank and file — the dead to pile — 
And slay our enemy. 

“Teach us to hate early and late 
And all their vitals spill. ,, 

(And soaked in blood) “O help us God, 
God bless US as we KILL ! 

“We call on Thee from land and sea 
And pray for victory; 

Be with us Lord with one accord 
To slay our enemy.” 

Each fighting side with God allied 
Is sure He’ll kill THEIR foe 
Or help them do it, He’ll see them thru 
it, 

G»od sanctions all this woe! 

Yet God above is God of love 
And FATHER of each clan — 

And how absurd in deed or word 
He’s helping any land ! 

How can this God our all wise God 
Help one child kill another? 

Father of all heeds not such call, 

He’s made each one a brother. 


78 


WAR POEMS 


“We call on Thee from land and sea 
And pray for victory ; 

Be with US Lord with one accord 
To slay our enemy.” 

Pray if you must on grass or dust 
To God who rules above ; 

But know ye not that prayer’s forgot 
Which is not prayed in love? 


SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 


Somewhere in France a father lies, 
Somewhere he’s bleaching beneath the 
skies ; 

Somewhere there are a trillion sighs; 

Somewhere in France. 

Somewhere in France a soldier’s dead; 
Somewhere on him the vultures fe l; 
Somewhere the army tramps its tread; 
Somewhere in France. 

Somewhere a million homes are gone; 
Somewhere loved ones are weak and 
wan; 

Somewhere no hope comes with the 
dawn; 

Somewhere in France. 

Somewhere all life is dreariness; 
Somewhere nothing but weariness ; 
Somewhere the millions pray for rest ; 
Somewhere in France. 


80 


WAR POEMS 


Somewhere the cannons’ awful roar; 
Somewhere the marching men's foot- 
sore; 

Somewhere its worse than e’er before; 

Somewhere in France- 
Somewhere a nation’s torn and bled; 
Somewhere two million sons are dead ; 
Somewhere the army tramps its tread — 
Somewhere in France. 


IT IS COLD IN THE TRENCHES 


As winter came on there was ur- 
gent demand for more warm clothing 
in the Russian armies from the Baltic 
to the Carpathians and immediately 
a myriad of collectors took the field 
in cities, towns and villages, carrying 
flags or riding in vehicles which bore 
the inscription: 

“IT IS COLD IN THE TRENCHES” 
(News Item of the Great War, 

Feb. 1915.) 

The drifting snow and blizzard’s freeze 
With no arm chairs or benches; 

The ice crust, drifts and numbing 
breeze — 

It’s freezing cold in the trenches. 


The frosty air, the drifting snow, 
The piercing sleet which drenches 
Tell horrors of the awful woe 

Of soldiers there in the trenches. 


There are frozen cheeks and frozen feet; 

The north wind bites and wrenches ; 
Their legs drop off from freezing sleet — 
It’s horror there in the trenches. 


82 


WAR POEMS 


There’re fingers numb and numbing; 

The sleet freezes and drenches; 

The war drums drum and keep a-drum- 
ming — 

While torture stalks in the trenches. 

’Tis bitter cold, its freezing cold, 

It’s terrible there in the trenches; 
One half the horrors have not been 
told — 

IPs freezing hell in the trenches. 


ALL EUROPE IS TRAMPING TO 
WAR 


Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! 

The soldiers are marching away. 

We sing their praise and shout hurrah ! 

At the tramp of the marching tread. 
Today we cheer the marching band, 
Tomorrow a wail comes o’er the land, 
For slaughtered men-our soldiers 
dead. 

Tramp! tramp! tramp!, 

Tramping no more for those who are 
dead ! 

Tramp! tramp! tramp! 

Tramp! tramp! tramp! 

The soldiers are marching along, 

Their hearts are heavy tho filled with 
song, 

They are marching to war-to fall — 
From the North and South from East 
and West 

To do for their country their very best 
They march away at the clarion call. 
Tramp! tramp! tramp! 

As countless thousands fight and fall, 
Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! 


84 


WAR POEMS 


Tramp! tramp! tramp! 

The soldiers are marching to-day, 
They’re leaving homes for the far away. 

Who will return, we rannot tell. 

The world’s at war; a monstrous camp 
Tramp on to trenches, tramp, tramp, 
Straightway to death and aye to hell. 
Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! 

The tramp of destiny-farewell. 

Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! 


THE PRODUCT OF WAR 


“Over a million corpses are fertil- 
izing the soil of Europe.” 

(News item of the Great War, 1915) 

A million men on the plains to not ; 

Men once the pride of home ; 

The men whose work enriched their 
land 

From the products of the loam. 

Each soldier some one’s pride and joy — 
By will of lords and kaiser 
Their homes and farms are swept away 
And they — a fertilizer. 

Out on the plains they’re killed and 
maimed, 

Robbed of their life and 'health; 
Some might have builded cities great, 
Lent to their country’s wealth; 
Inventor great or architect — 

By will of lords and kaiser 
Instead of builders and men of means 
Are now but fertilizer. 


86 


WAR POEMS 


One time he wooed and won his bride;*. 

Together planned their future; 

They thought of naught but home and 
love, 

Forgot warring and Blucher, 

As time sped on he owned his house — 
By will of lords and kaiser 
All this is gone, his home’s a wreck, 
And he — a fertilizer. 

As children came to bless the home 
The ties of love grew stronger; 

T’was heaven here on earth for them 
But not so any longer; 

For what was once a kind protector — 
By will of lords and kaiser — 

Now on the plains, lies there to bleach 
And be a fertilizer. 


87 


WAR IS MAGNIFICENT. 

“Canada Saved the Day.” The greatest bat- 
tle of the war was raging in Flanders. The 
Belgians, the French and British were facing 
500,000 of Germany’s bravest, heavily en- 
trenched, in the arc-shaped battle front above 
Ypres. The Canadians held the British left, 
next 'to the French. It might be the turning 
point of the war. The Germans threw gren- 
ades of asphyxiating gas. A yellow cloud 
of vapor blew over the French trenches. The 
French fell back. The Germans charged. 
The Canadians were forced to give way in 
order to keep in touch with their line. Then 
reforming, the whole Canadian division coun- 
ter charged. They drove all before them. 
They recaptured their guns. They remanned 
their trenches- They 'took one hundred of 
the foe prisoners. They left a thousand dead, 
but the tide of defeat was turned. Said a 
wounded Canadian officer: “Our boys were 
more than magnificent; but there are very 
many of them whom we will never see again. 
*** “It was literally hell for the poor French 
beggars who w r ere joined up to us.’ *?* “The 
Germans were mowed down by our machine 
guns, but they marched over two hundred 
yards and over our entanglements.” — The In- 
dependent, May 3, 1915. 

Yes, Canada, fair Canada 
Canada saved the day! 

(They quit themselves like men 
The Canadian who were brave. 

So its zip-a-la, zip-a-la! 

Shout, sing, yell! 

Our boys were really magnificent — 

But it was hell, hell, hell ! 





83 


WAR POEMS 


It was roaring hell for Frenchmen 
It was seething hell for all ! 

The ground was covered with dead men 
Who had answered their country’s 
call. 

So its zip-a-la ! zip-a-la ! 

Shout, sing, yell ! 

The French were really magnificent — 
But it was hell, hell, hell! 

The Germans found it too was hell ; 

No braver men e’er fought, 

They passed the barbed entanglements 
And pushed the dread onslaught! 

So it’s zip-a-la; zip-a-la! 

Shout, sing, yell! 

The Germans were really magnificent — 
But it was hell, hell, hell ! 

That’s war for you ; it’s roaring hell ! 

It’s screeching, seething hell ! 

We’re sending men our flesh and bone — 
We’re pushing them pell mell. 

So it’s zip-a-la; zip-a-la! 

Do you hear the dying yell? 

All war is very magnificent — 

But it’s hell, hell, hell! 


THE BLASPHEMY OF WAR. 


Some kings and rulers itch for fame; 

Perhaps they’ll grab adjacent land: 
Too weak themselves to play the game 
They call for men to take their stand. 

CLEANLINESS. 

On cleanliness we put much stress, 

But see what change these men will 
share, 

From model men in strength and dress 
When “war dogs” crawl from out 
their lair. 

On dress parade in uniform — 

Dressed as a tailor’s model trim, 
The soldiers march from early dawn 
And multitudes a-cheering him. 

With guns and buttons shining bright, 
The very flower of the land, 

What husky manhood ; 0 the sight 
Of strength — what strength ! — as 
* soldiers stand. 

MUD 

Now watch the change come over him, 
Our healthy, well dressed, soldier 
files. 

Command, to march! The line grows 
dim, 

They’ve marched for many, many 
miles, 


90 


WAR POEMS 


Until the dust is mixed with rain 
And mud is ankle deep and more, 
Until weary, each step a pain — 

But more than mud, they've cursed,, 
they've swore. 

BLOOD 

Those well picked men, best of the land,. 
“To charge!" they hear on the stilly 
air, 

Then blood does run on every hand — 
The brute of man is now torn bare. 

The smell of human smearing blood 
Fires each man’s brain and makes 
him wild! 

Such blasphemy rolls as a flood 

And foul the lips that once were mild. 
BLASPHEMY 

The mud and blood and hissing shell 
Turn loyal men into the brute; 
Blaspheme, they do, in living “hell, ’ 
More like demons each time they 
shoot. 

Flesh torn to shreds and mangled bones ; 
Some ribs crushed in and lungs pierc- 
ed thru; 

Across the field come cursing groans; 
Such blasphemy, 'till the “air is blue!" 


THE BLASPHEMY OF WAR 


91 


Not long before the best physique 
And pick of manhood stood alert, 

But now undone, in agony 

Covered with blood and miring dirt. 

They curse and dam and swear and 
cry; 

Mid pains and wounds, their awful 
fate; 

Powdered-begrimed, blood soaked they 
. lie, 

Cursing and damning with hate. 

Bloody-disheveled-shaggy-hair — 

All that the soldiers hear and see 
When war dogs crawl from out their 
lair 

Is mud and blood and blasphemy. 

Men’s vitals ripped (0 war what sin!) 
War is summed up in words these 
three : — 

(It’s mud and filth men wallow in) 
MUD, BLOOD AND BLASPHEMY! 


92 


WAR POEMS 


THE SOLDIERS FATE 

“There were several reports that 
soldiers of opposing armies whose 
trenches had been thrust out near 
each other exchanged first shouted 
greetings, then presents hurled thru 
the air and in one or two cases even 
crawled over to smoke and chat with 
the enemies outposts/' — News items 
of the Great War. 

If some nations have fallen out 
With another nation, great, 

And kings cannot the trouble mend 
Except by soldiers’ fate, 

And we are sent to kill and sigh, 
Let’s smoke and talk as friends 
Before we go to die. 


If I must stand and shoot at you, 
And try to kill you dead, 

That’s only part of war, you see, 
The game of guns and lead. 

If I’m to kill you Mr. Fry, 

Let’s smoke and talk as friends 
Before we go to die. 


THE SOLDIER’S FATE 


93 


We’re called to fight a bloody war, 
And blood it is and gall, 

We’re taught to slay and mangle men, 
Answer the Captain’s call. 

As friends we’ll meet up in the sky 
Let’s smoke and talk as friends 
Before we go to die. 

I’d rather not, my friend, kill men, 
And quite the same think you; 

But that’s no use, we have no say, 
That’s left with kings, so few. 

So seeing we must fight a lie 
Let’s smoke and talk as friends 
Before we go to die. 


94 


WAR POEMS 


UNKNOWN 

“Unknown” is what the tombstones read. 

But now no trace of the loyal dead. 

How many thousand graves are strown 

Around the world, marked, just, “Un- 
known !” 

The battle o’er and thousands dead : 

“Unknown” above the mound was read. 

The misery — how sad “Unknown!” 

A mother waits for word at home; 

It does not come, she waits alone ! 

Her boy was killed and rests “Un- 
known.” 

Unknown’s a sequel of war’s dire toll; 

Unknown’s not there at the call of the 
roll, 

No parting words, no word from home ; 

He was shot and sleeps in a grave, un- 
known- 

“Unknown,” marks thousands beneath 
the sky — 

BUT THIS HAS CHANGED AS TIME 
WENT BY, 


UNKNOWN 


95 


And now they’re heaped in trenches 
deep 

Or burned as gnats — no tomb stones 
keep 

A record of soldiers brave, unknown ; 
Too many slain, so flesh and bone 

Of what was once a mortal man 
Is heaped or burned as rubbish ban. 

* * * * * * 

But mothers’ hearts are bleeding still; 
The sweethearts’ sigh at ruler’s will ; 

The children’s cry and orphans’ moan 
Are still the toll of those unknown. 

0 God of Heaven of man and beast; 
How long, how long ere war will cease? 

How long before the world and home 
Will live and love — have no “Un- 
known ?” 


96 


WAR POEMS 


PICKETT S BRAVE COMMAND 

Dedicated with the greatest ad- 
miration and tenderest love to the 
“Boys in Grey” our brave Southland, 
our bosom friend forever. 

The battle raged two days and more 
At fateful Gettysburg; 

At last ’twas Pickett’s brave brigade 
To break the Union surf! 

Two days those men — those bravest 
brave — 

Saw “hell” dumped from above, 

For hours they knew that they must die 
For the South, their truest love. 

They wrote farewell — while hell belched 
forth — 

And watched the deadly flame 
Of Union shot and canister, 

A sweeping death it came. 

At last the command, “Fall in line!” 

And silently they stand. 

“Right dress!” “Attention!” “For- 
ward march!” 

Their blood to soak the land. 


PICKETT’S BRAVE COMMAND 


97 


Ahead of them the Union guns 
“Belched hell down into them/’ 

But on they went. As ranks thin out 
They're closed by other men. 

The fence is reached, and orderly 
They clamber over it — 

The braves are picked off just like flies 
As Union hell is spit. 


They fall in line, fill up the ranks 
And orderly march along! 

They're there to die for land and home, 
With “Dixie" cheering on. 

The Union guns belched out their death, 
The braves march right ahead! 

There’s not enough grape-shot or shell 
Nor Union deadly lead 

To stop their onward marching file 
While left there is a man ; 

So on they went to certain death, 

On! Pickett's Brave Command! 

The ranks thin out, then close again 
With the bravest in the ranks behind, 

And they march on to certain death, 
The bravest of mankind. 


98 


WAR POEMS 


They march right up to the cannon’s 
mouth, 

“While hell’s dumped into them!” 
They march right on to certain doom 
For they are Pickett’s men. 

The Ridge is reached (and hell’s still 
there) 

They broke the Union rank, 

But Pickett’s bravest of the brave 
Into death’s gulf then sank. 

“Now hold their place?” Aye sir, too 
long 

They faced that dead man’s vale, 

And only few of Pickett’s men 
Were left to tell the tale. 

Their ranks too thin to hold the post 
That bravest valor gained; 

Too long those thinning ranks filled up 
To face the lead that rained. 

But while the pen of sage can write 
The deeds of valiant man, 
Embellished forever on highest scroll 
Is Pickett’s Brave Command. 


\ 


POEMS OF 
SENTIMENT 



FRIEND 


There are ties of life most holy, 

There're ties that naught can break; 

There's home and wife and mother, 
There's Dad and “Old time's sake." 

We don't forget the children too, 
Their romps and wisest ken; 

But there's a tie with “Hoops of steel,'’ 
In mention of a Friend. 

My friend, where hailest thou today, 
And what hast thou gone thru, 

What sorrow hast thou borne for me, 
That binds my life to you? 

For friends are made in hours of trial. 
In hardship and despair; 

The one who knows and understands 
Has had his heart stripped bare. 

To Calvary, we've made our way, 

And both been crucified, 

They've called to Pilate for our blood, 
A dozen times we've died. 


102 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


Did mourning bind our souls as one; 

Or poverty’s night mare; 

Or was it bitter scandal’s tongue 
That friend and friend did share? 

Or did we fight for righteousness, 

The rights of man defend, 

That pressed the stinging crown of 
thorns 

On brows that made a friend? 

Your heart is full, you understand, 
You too, have stemmed the tide, 
When all around the cowards fled, 

And heroes brave have died. 

In all of life’s bold struggles, 

In sorrows life doth send; 

Then comes one like an angel true 
And that one is a friend. 

A sorow comes into my life ; 

My head is bent in grief; 

The Judases and sychophants 
All flee — give no relief. 

Alone I sit and ponder long 
And think what might have been 
Had I but bowed to Baal and greed, 
When Lo! you come, my friend! 


FRIEND 


103 


Again we buckle on our sword, 

The truth and right defend, 

And when the smoke of battle's o'er, 
We’re closer drawn, my Friend. 


104 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


CHRIST THE FRIENDLESS 

He stood there in the judgment hall 
With Pilate on the throne; 

No friend was nigh to plead his case 
He stood alone, alone! 

Where are his friends? “Come to his 
aid/ 7 

Alone he shares his fate. 

When on the cross they came to him 
But then, too late, too late! 

In the garden of Gethsemane 
The rabble came with staves, 

And men who once were his best friends 
Rode not the troubled waves; 

He’s led away to buffeting 

And pierced with thorns of hate; 
When on the cross they came to him, 
But then, too late, too late! 


CHRIST THE FRIENDLESS 


105 


He’s on the way to Calvary 
Too weak to bear his cross 
He’s sinking neath the load he bears 
From blood that he has lost; 

“Now step forth, friend, and share the 
load. 

Heed not the rabble’s hate” — 

But none e’er came, He went alone 
To the cross — Too late ! too late ! 


And when the nails were driven thru 
His hands and weary feet, 

When on the cross the blood dripped 
down, 

What sight his eyes did meet! 

The earth quake shakes the earth 
about 

And when it doth abate 
What sees he then creep near the cross ? 
His friends — Too late! too late! 

The temple veil was rent in twain, 

The earth in darkness deep: 
Around the cross and far away 
A host of women weep. 

They came to Calvary with him 
But followed in his wake; 

They came to see the end of man 
As friends — Too late! too late! 


106 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


And when the eve of that dread day 
Came unto its sad end 
The rich centurion, Joseph came; 

0 yes ! came as a friend, 

Would have the body of Jesus Christ 
Threw open the dark tomb’s gate, 
He came to show what love he had 
For him — too late! too late! 


WEARY SOUL 


My soul is sad and dreary; 

My life is tired and weary; 

0 God when will it end? 

Fve traveled long the dreary road; 

Fve carried long, life’s weary load — 
My God some comfort send! 

My life is rush and hurry; 

My soul is filled with worry; 

When will my respite come? 

Fm tired of all this rush and hurry; 
My soul is ill with all this worry — 

Fm longing to go home. 

I see no light beyond, ahead ; 

I see but dark, my path I dread; 

Must I go on alone? 

No light I see, its dark, all’s night ; 

I tremble, fear and stand a-fright — 
Can I go on alone? 

And what is that I hear ? I hear — 

The Spirit speaketh near 
And all my burdens shares. 

God’s Spirit speaks, my soul doth hear, 
I feel, I know that God is near — 

And life is freed from cares. 


108 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


THE SIMPLE LIFE 

O, for a day in the country; 

In the open, wide and clear; 

For a smell of the honey su?kle, 

For the humming bird to hear ! 

Oh, for a stroll in the valley, 

O'er the rozks and up the hill; 

For breath of the lilac blossoms ; 

For the call of t’ e whip-poor-will! 

Oh, for the stilly twilight; 

For the evening clear and still, 
For the cricket’s chirp and chatter, 
For the screech owl’s call so shrill ! 

Oh, for a day in the country ; 

The quiet, early morn; 

Oh, for the joy and respite 

From the sorrows life has borne ! 

Oh, for the quiet hillside, 

For the restful happy dell; 

,Of the homestead’s blissful solace — 
No mortal tongue can tell! 


THE SIMPLE LIFE 


109 


Go sing to me of the country, 

Of the farm where I was raised ; 

Go shout the glad hosannas! 

Let the simple life be praised- 

When the book of life is ended 
And sealed is its last line, 

Then bury me back in Wyoming, 
'Neath the country's soothing clime. 

By ambition I was driven 
To the city, large and cruel; 
Aspirations are accomplished, 

It has been an arduous school. 

O, what would I not give today 
For the simple life behind! 

Man has always had to struggle 
From beginning of all time. 

Altho I long for quietude 
And seek the sylvan rest; 

To suffer, strive and conquer 
After all some how seems best. 

For the country folk have sorrows ; 

The gentlest have their woe. 

'Twas so from the beginning : 

God must have meant it so. 


1 10 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


O for the quiet country 

Where rest may make me strong! 
Then back again to duty; 

To battle ’gainst the wrong. 

Then back at my post of duty, 

Let me forever there, 

Where life is strife and struggle 
Once more to do and dare. 


LIFE'S MEASURE 


Oh weary soul be brave, be strong, 

Tho thou art trampled by the throng, 
Be brave, be valiant, and be true; 

For compensation will come to you. 

To have a mind that’s free from wrong, 
A conscience clear, a heart that’s strong, 
Means more to you than kingdom’s 
wealth, 

Means more to you than bonds and 
health. 

A heart that’s brave, a soul that’s true, 
A life that’s spotless, in full view 
Of dire temptation and great pitfall, 

Is worth far more than fame — than all 

Not what you’re worth financially, 

But that you've braved life manfully, 
Not how much fame has come to you, 
But only were you brave and true? 


112 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


HOW TO HAVE FRIENDS 

And would you have a host of friends. 
On land or on the sea? 

If that you would — just bear in mind:. 
That YOU a friend must be. 

And would you have the greatest joy, 
A joy that you can lend? 

Go slip your hand into his palm 
And say, “I am your friend/' 


CHRISTMAS 


Of all the happy times of life, 

Of all the happy times each year 
Is the happy, happy, yule tide, 

The merry, merry, Christmas cheer. 
Of all the sad, sad days we know ; 

Of all the dread, dread times to see 
For children’s hearts — can it be so — 

A Christmas and no yule tree! 

No Christmas tree, no presents bright. 
No cheer or happy hum 
When children of the poor all night 
Wait Santa’s call. He does not come. 
0 then the sad, sad Christmas time; 
The Christmas blight, the Christmas 
blight ; 

O little hearts a-bleed — what crime! — 
When Santa did not come last night. 


114 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


In the broad land, land of the brave; 
The land of wealth and Christmas 
tree, 

Is there no way, no way to save 
The little hearts such misery? 

We pause to think, to think — how sad ! — 
Of countless, countless homes 

Where little hearts a-pang — how sad ! — 
For Santa did not come last night. 

Can we condemn, condemn severe, 

If hearts are hardened, not to thaw, 

If little souls that know no cheer 
Grow up to curse and break our law 

When all around, good cheer! good 
cheer ! 

For them all gloom, not bright! not 
bright ! 

For them alone with life so drear 
When Santa did not come last night? 


BORN AGAIN 


I had no time for flowers, 

For the dew drop or the rain; 

No thought for shady bowers— 

Till I was born again. 

But now I love the lilacs, 

See a world in dew and rain, 

Daffodils and four-o'clocks — 

Since I was born again. 

All life was a round of pleasure, 

And serious thought gave pain 

Until my mind took measure — 

And I was born again. 

My life was filled with haughty pride ; 
No thought for others came ; 

It was myself and none beside — 

Till I was born again. 

I doubted God's great love, 

My thoughts were all insane. 

I see His love below, above, 

Since I was born again. 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


1 16 


So everyone is often born 

In thought, by health or pain — 
And we receive new views of life 
When we are born again. 


IN MEMORIAM 


■So many sighs, so many tears, 

So many loved ones gone, 

So many heart aches thru the years — 
For her at last the dawn. 

•So many toils with no reward, 

So many scars that bleed, 

So many roads, so dark and dense — 
From these our loved one's freed. 

So many sighs, so many tears, 

So many clouds now past, 

So many doubts, so many fears — 
But quiet rest at last. 

What is our loss, is but her gain. 

Our souls submit, “well done,’ 

For her no sorrows and no pain, 
She's crowned — a race well done. 


1 18 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


LET ME BE KIND 

I pray for things I could not use; 

I pray for things I do not need : 

One prayer there is I often make — 

I pray and fail sometimes to heed. 

I pray, “O God do make me kind:'’ 

The world needs kindness much, my 
sire: 

I pray I might be kind, and then 
I fail to be what I desire. 

To friends around I should be kind; 

To those who blame and know me not 
And do me wrong, I pray for them, 

I pray, and soon that prayer’s forgot. 

u O make me kind to man and beast; 

To stranger, babe and hairs of grey :: 
O may I not by word or deed 
Be aught but kind to all, I pray. 

“0 make me kind when I forget, 

O make me kind I pray today, 

Yea, make me kind, 0 God of love, 
Teach me the noble art, I pray. 


LET ME BE KIND 


119 


“0 make me kind to friend and foe, 

To all I know and meet and see : 

The world cries out for this I know, 

0 teach Thy kindness, Lord, to me.” 

If you have cone me wrong today, 

1 should forget and kindness be : 

To friend and foe, my heart cries out, 
I would be kind, yea kind to thee. 


120 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


MOTHER EVERY TIME. 

Oft times the world is cruel, 

Some times it breaks your heart — 

No thought about your feelings 
As flies its poisoned dart. 

You’re over run by gossip, 

It hews its course so fine — 

There’s one then you can count on, 
That’s mother every time. 

Just as in times of childhood 
When hurt by wound or fall, 

The thought of dear, good mother 
Palliates life’s bitter gall. 

The critic’s cruel, the way is dark; 
The world has been unkind? 

There’s one that you can count on — 
That’s mother every time. 

If all goes wrong, you’re lonely; 

If failure comes today; 

If those who sought your friendship 
Now go tbe other way; 

If sin has scarred your heart and soul 
Downcast while in your prime — 

There’s one that you can count on, 
That’s mother every time. 


COMPASSION 


A weary soul has missed the track, 
He looks for us to help him back, 

What succor can we give? 

He looks to us, 0 see him plead ! 

Now is the time for Christ-like deed, 

0 help him now to live! 

Some time perhaps I'll miss the road, 
My soul is crushed oft by it’s load, 

And I am sad and weak. 

Then by the grace of clement God, 
And by the path the Saviour trod 
May I hear kindness speak. 

Perhaps that brother whom now we see 
Crushed on life’s shifting stormy sea 
Had more than he could bear. 
Perhaps had we his trials and will 
We might have sunk far deeper still — 
Will we his troubles share? 

There is a sister, God knows where 
Been swept into a malestrom lair 
And suffers toils of hell. 

A thousand times she wept and pled, 
And prayed and prayed that she were 
dead ! 

O who’s to blame she fell ? 


122 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


Had I been she, had she been me 
(The tears drop fast, I cannot see) 

I tremble as I think. 

My soul in kindness melts for her 
I feel my very being stir, 

What pushed her o’er the brink? 

Who on this mundane, sin cursed earth 
Would dare to think his soul is worth 
More than the “least of these?” 

Go bend your knees and humbly pray 
That God will keep you safe alway, 

And have compassion, please! 


THEY KNOW NOT WHAT 
THEY DO 


The Roman scourge was forty stripes, 
And each one cut the flesh 
Until His back, one bleeding sore 
As tho caught in a mesh ! 

And as the lashes cut the air 
And tore His flesh into: 

“Father forgive this act so cruel, 

They know not what they do.” 

And when the dreadful deed was done. 
No salve or soothing oil 
Was put upon His bleeding back, 

His blood dripped to the soil. 

They then put on a purple cloak, 

This done in mockery, 

And to the bleeding flesh it cleaved 
To augument His misery. 


124 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


And then a crown of briery thorns, 

With cruel, piercing thongs, 

But no revenge — Forgive them God 
For this and other wrongs. 

With fists they struck Him in the face; 

They tore His clothes in two, 

That soul serene in God declared: 

“They know not what they do.” 

When on the cross, they mocked Him 
cruel ; 

They caviled and they swore. 

He had the hardest load to bear 
That any man e’er bore. 

They could not wring from pious lips. 
Or from His holy mind 
A word or act beneath the Christ — 

The LOVER OF MANKIND. 

In buffeting or oozing blood, 

In crowd or with the few, 

The same sweet prayer goes up to God — 
They know not what do they do. 

That prayer has won rebellious hearts. 
That prayer the world will save; 
The prayer of Christ, the Master Love, 
Example to us gave. 


LIFE’S STRUGGGLE 


My many passions have caused me pain, 
My soul has cried aloud ; 

I’ve fought to conquer flesh and sin; 

I stand with head here bowed. 

My life has been a struggle hard, 

I’ve often wondered why? 

0 give me faith to trust Thy love 
And know that Thou art night. 

My waywardness has brought the tears 
I’ve done what I regret ; 

I’ve fought a fight to be a man 
And have not conquered yet. 

I’ve wandered far away from Thee; 

Each sin has caused a sigh — 

O give me faith to trust Thy love 
And know that Thou art nigh. 


126 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


Forgive the sins that I have done, 
Those which have scarred my soul ; 

Forgive my failings, sins and wrongs — 
I sought to reach the goal. 

When I have failed it brought the tears 
For each I’ve heaved a sigh — 

O give me faith to trust Thy love 
And know that Thou art nigh. 

O Thou art nigh in sin or faith, 

In troubles and disgrace; 

No matter, Lord, what I have done 
Thou wilt not hide thy face. 

So let me live and strive to win 
Until I come to die. 

O give me faith to trust Thy love 
And know that Thou art nigh. 


127 


HOPE BLOSSOMS ETERNALLY 

We some times long for things we cannot own : 

Our hopes to do and dare, our spurs to win 
Are all be-decked with crepe in every zone, 
Appreciated not by kith or kin. 


How I have longed for home and children there 
To greet me as I draw toward my home, 

But home's a suite of humble rooms, most bare, 
My children, all but one, sleep 'neath God's 
dome. 


Ideals are but the shadows of the past, 

My aims and efforts, buried low and deep, 
But somehow yet my faith still holds me fast, 
Tho tired and worn, a star of hope I keep. 


There always seems a light just on, a ways, 

Some thing for which we long, and crave and 
strive 

As traveling on thru life's perplexing maze, 

A flicker of old hope is still alive. 


128 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


Do what I will, succeed or fail is all 
A part of life's perplexing, winding way, 

And whether hopes rise high or whether fall, 

I do my best and slowly plod each day. 

And when I see for me life's crown is small. 

My efforts, all my plans, my hopes are vain 
And buried for a time my zeal — I fall — 

My child I see and hope springs up again. 

And so it is, and ever more shall be, 

We hope, we try, we do, we plan, we strive, 
Whether for us there comes the victory, 

Our hope, our faith in scions' still alive. 

. So give not up, 0 weary soul, be brave ! 

Weave manly, well, tho 'tis your life's last 
strand, 

We see a star of hope beyond the grave ; 

Perhaps we’ll finish there what we began. 


ABUNDANT SOURCE 


I bid farewell to care and strife, 

To troublous worries of the hour 
Since I have found the true Christ life ; 

Aye, found its all sustaining power. 
For wrongs, mistakes, Fve no remorse 
I rest secure in Abundant Source. 

The God around, beneath, above 
The ever present fatherhood 
The one Creator — God of love — 

Cares for his children as he should : 
There’s one enduring lasting course 
Of life complete in Abundant Source. 

Go gain the Christ mind attitude 
Affirm day in, affirm day out 
That Cod is good — keep pi ace — no 
strife — 

And he will bring your peace about 
There is no other real recourse 
Than resting ini iVbundant Source. 


130 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


LONELY 

The years have come, the years have 
gone 

Since that little grave was made : 
Sometimes I think life’s scheme is 
wrong ; 

When joys so soon must fade. 

The patter of her little feet, 

(How busy all the day!) 

Her tender call, “Grandpa,” how sweet ! 
Is now silent for aye. 

The falling leaves upon her mound; 

The coverlet of snow 
Upon the little grave, no sound — 

But ah, to me not so 

Each falling leaf says, she’s not here, 
Each crystal driven snow 
Sounds like the Angelus so drear ; 

We loved, we loved her so. 

And now the house is desolate, 

The chlidren pass my door, 

I’m old they think, ah yes my fate, 

Yet how I long for more 


LONELY 


13 


Of chldren’s prattle, joyful glee: 

For her and playmates gay. 

But just because she's gone, for me 
It’s drear and dark today. 

As I have lived my life so full 
Of sorrow and of woe, 

I feel the silver death cords pull 
And soon I too shall go. 

And shall I meet her once again? 

Not long and I shall know. 

I guess life's right, tho filled with pain, 
For God has made it so. 


132 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


WHAT IS THE “GOSPEL?” 

I wonder, what’s the “Gospel” true, 

The Gospel Christ, the loved, would' 
preach. 

If He lived here by me and you, 

I wonder what He’d teach? 

What would the Master preach? 

Would Christ go down into the slums. 

And heal the broken hearted men? 
Would he receive the outcast bums 
If the Vestry failed to say, Amen? 
What would the Master preach? 

If a widow and her children three 
Had not enough to pay pew rent, 
Would He say, “Let them come and see 
The glory that their God hath sent?”’ 
How would the Master preach? 

If the Vestry thought their Church too. 
good 

To entertain the flock so poor, 

Who know not what will be their food„ 
Yet have a faith that “will endure,” 
How would the Master preach? 


WHAT IS THE “GOSPEL’ 


133 


Would Christ with firmness make a plea 

Against child labor in foul sweat 
shop? 

For better wage on land or sea, 

For woman's suffrage or “slavers" 
lot? 

What would the Master preach? 

Would Christ use moving picture reels, 

To preach the Gospel to “bond and 
free ?" 

Would Christ take home the man who 
reels 

And cannot walk nor hardly see? 

How would the Master preach? 

Would Christ accept the rich man's 
gift, 

And say but what that man dictates? 

Or would He try to help and lift 

Such men away from sin He hates? 

How would the Master preach? 

Would Christ preach temperance in this 
day 

If a member rich would say, “Not so," 

Would Christ res'gn or would he stay 

And serve lord mammon, the people s 
foe? 

How would the Master preach? 


134 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


I wonder what’s the Gospel true, 

The Gospel Christ would preach, 

If he lived here by me and you, 

I wonder how He’d teach? 

What would the Master preach? 

For me, I know what He would preach.- 
(I may not think as you — ) 
Outstretched to needy, His arms would 
reach : 

Whate’er He preached, He WOULD 
BE TRUE. 

That’s what the Christ woud preach^ 


FRIENDS OF SPACE 


Ah, friend perhaps we’ve never met 
In the battle of the race; 

But if you’ve bled and suffered too, 
We’re friends, tho friends in space. 

If you have slipped your kindly hand 
Into the palm of one who’s been 
In trouble sore, or dire disgrace, 

Why then YOU ARE MY FRIEND 


136 


POEMS OF SENTIMENT 


THANKFUL 

For harvest white, for bounteous 
yields, 

For happy land at peace with all, 

For broad prairie and fertile fields, 

For warm sunshine and much rain 
fall, 

For age of wonders ; this our lot : 

For great invention and modern 
banks, 

For blessings now and those forgot; 

O Lord of Host we offer thanks. 


INSPIRATIONAL 

POEMS 

















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■ 




BOOOST AND MAKE ER GO 


Don't have a face so glum and long 
You look like a baboon, 

But have a grin around your chin 
Like the smile upon the moon. 

So with a smile meet every foe ; 

Just boost’er up and make’er go. 

Don’t wear a grouch about the times 
Or business poor and dull; 

But have a grin around your chin 
Away up to your skull. 

Don’t you pull back, or don’t go slow, 
Just boost away and make’er go. 

Don’t prophesy and always say, 

“The job’s too big for us.” 

Don’t always kick and play “Old 
Nick—” 

Don’t growl and carp and fuss. 

The one who makes the coin — the 
“dough — ” 

Must boost away and make’er go. 


140 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


Don't criticise and shake your head ; 

Don't stamp and storm around; 
Don't block the wheel because you feel 
A little blue or down. 

Do not retreat and don't say, “no;" 
Just boost away and mak’e'er go. 


AND STILL I WILL PUSH ON 

Tho disappointed, I’ll not quit! 

; I’ll push all night till dawn. 
Courageous soul and hopeful heart ; 
I’m pushing on and on ! 

All things gone wrong; I will not quit! 

Tho awful is the dark 
And terrible the rocky road. 

On, on ! I’ll push my bark. 

All blasted hopes : I will not quit ! 

Tho thousand chasms yawn. 

My purpose firm and clear my eye; 

I’ll push my way still on! 

All friends desert: I will not quit! . 

On every side swords drawn ; 

Alone! Alone! I’ll make my way, 

And still I will push on ! 

I stand alone in deepest grief, 

Tho pitfalls gape and yawn ; 

No one to lend a helping hand, 

But still I will push on! 


142 INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 

No help is mine, all bridges burned, 
All that I own in pawn; 

And tho all hope seems useless, vain, 
Fm pushing on and on ! 


POXING GLOVES OF PLUCK 


Ven dings go wrong und lopsided, 
Schust ready get, now den, to smash 
’em; 

Put on der poxin, gloves uf pluek 

Hit any blace ver you can vacke ’em. 

Hang on mid teeth schust like a dog 
Yaw hang, und dry another chance; 
Roll up yer nerve mid poxing gloves; 
Und hit them vunce ver dey will 
dance. 

Ven you vould run, den don’t you do it, 
Schust hold your gun und storm der 
fort; 

Put on yer poxing gloves, py chinks 
- And hit dem hard vunce on der vart. 

Shuppose your eye vas plue and plack, 
Vat was der use mine friend to vine? 
Schust go at dem mid all your might 
Und hit dem vunce in der fish line. 

Ven you are licked und out und down ; 
Schust ’bout der time dey tink you 
dead, 

You shump right up pehind their pack 
Und kick’em in der vood shed. 


144 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


FIND YOUR WORK— THEN LEAF 

Ah, are you happy in your work? 

If not you ought to be ; 

The man who loves the work he does, 
Works on most cheerily. 

There's something in this world so 
fair — 

Some high ambitious peak — 

That you can reach; so co and dare,. 
Then plan and make the leap ! 

Full many one with talent great 
Lies prostrate, on life’s sand; 

Has met defeat and feels too weak 
To do what he began. 

You cannot do your level best 
And reach life’s highest peak 
Unless you follow up your bent — 

Plan well, and make the leap. 


FIND YOUR WORK-THEN LEAP 


145 


It takes much nerve and courage too, 
Your talent to augment, 

But every one beneath the sun 
A talent has — his bent. 

Get in your line — you have a work — 
Some life’s all glorious peak 
That you can reach — just know thy- 
self — 

So plan and make the leap. 

Plan well, of course, but do thou plan! 

Of course you’ll sweat and pant; 

The road of life with all its strife 
Is strewn with bones, “I can’t.” 

The skeletons of men who’ve quit 
You’ll pass up to life’s peak, 

But man ! have pluck to do and dare ! 
Do plan, and make the leap ! 

The one who leaps may wonder oft, 

If he did what was right; 

You’ll often be far out “at sea” 

But don’t give up the fight. 

Your way is long, perhaps, and tough, 
But climb, climb, to the peak! 

Tho doubts assail, you cannot fail — 
Plan now and make the leap ! 


146 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


USE A LITTLE GRIT 

When you would stop, discouraged, sad, 
Use a little grit! 

All things gone wrong, you would go 
mad! 

Use a little grit! 

Set your teeth a little tighter, 

Show the world you are a fighter, 

And you’ll see your burdens lighter. 
Use a little grit! 

Each time you’ve tried, you’ve had no 
luck? 

Use a little grit ! 

Try again, you’ll win with pluck, 

Use a little grit ! 

Clinch your fist a trifle firmer; 

Never stop, just be a squirmer, 

Squirm to rise and be a learner. 

Use a little grit! 

You are too old to try again? 

Use a little grit ! 

Ne’er too old to battle when 
You use a little grit. 

Knit your brow, take another breath, 
Ginger up, use pep and pith, 

Don’t give up this side of death. 

Use a little grit! 


IT’S WORTH THE PRICE 


In the mid-night hours of sorrow, 

In the mid-night of despair, 

I’ve thought that life’s great burden 
Was more than I could bear. 

How often! 0 how often 

I have thought, “It is no use, 

There’s naught in. store for such as I 
But sorrow and abuse.” 

I’ve longed to banish sorrow 
And life with its heavy wand ! 

I’ve prayed for no tomorrow — 

Just death and oblivion. 

In life’s dark hour of sadness, 

In times when I would die, 

There came the hope eternal: 
“Reward somehow is nigh.” 

In all of the hours of struggle, 

In dark times of despair 

The wee still voice would whisper, 
“Work on. and strive and dare.” 


148 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


And I was not mistaken, 

Tho years it took to win. 

No soul shall ever fail, my friend, 

Who works with might and vim. 

0 never think of giving up, 

Ne’er think the battle lost; 

Just grit your teeth and do your best— 
It’s worth all that it cost ! 


149 


VY CAN’T IT BE DID. 

Some dime you meet vid vune crazy guy 

Mid a nose on his face und a grouch in his eye 
Who says, “You never vunce can did it.” 

Schust valk right up to that chap und say, 

“Since ven do you own der vorld any vay? 

Get out of my vay, or I vill take a slide on your 
seat !” 

Und you vill slid it! 

Ven der grouch comes along mid a tark prown 
taste 

Und ploys his nose on your pack in your face 
Und says, “You never vunce can did it,” 

Just you say out loud mid your tongue und your 
hand, 

“Vot do you know apout var on der porder land? 

Get out of my vay or I’ll schump down your 
throat !” 

Und you vill did it! 


150 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


Don’t you play der pull ven dey vave der white 
flag 

Und stampede up his pack as dough you were mad,. 

Und cry, “I never vunce can did it.” 

Hitch your pants vunce pehind, draw der buckle 
vuncc T;* ore 

Und pitch into pizness schust like it was var; 

Und ven you half conquered der vorld they viT 
know 

Dot you did it! 

Vot right has a man mid a face on his chin 

To plock all der progress dot you did pegin 

Py saying, “You never can did it?” 

He don’t own der vorld or he never vunce vill 

If you go right along mid a smile on your pill, 

Und never vunce growl, you will climb der long 
hill. 

Schust you did it! 

Schust spit on der ground, in your hand vunce 
again 

Und look at dat schap who has got such a pain, 

Und says you never vill did it; 

Shake your fist in his mouth, grit your teeth mid! 
yourself 

Und tell him to stay on der fault finding shelf, 

Dot you are going to did it, in spite of his pelt.. 

You den vill did it! 


KEEP EVERLASTINGLY AT IT 


Be not dismayed if you’re not paid 
For what you do today! 

For he who works and never shirks 
Is bound to win some day ! 

For years you work just “like a Turk,” 
The same old drum-de-drum; 

But never mind — men of your kind 
Have forced success to come ! 

You get no cheer for many a year, 

And very little praise? 

’Twas seven years — but with no fears — 
Napoleon had no raise. 

So let each day and record — say, 

“I’ve done the best I can:” 

Tho long the road, heavy the load, 

You’ll lead some day the van. 

Remember, man, winners who stand 
Faced failure — often hit. 

There’s succes on. the way for the one 
who will say 

“I’ll keep everlastingly at it!” 


152 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


KEEP MUM AND PLUG 

Yea, call me block head, dunce or clown, 
Dumfool and all the rest; 

Yet I will never answer back 
Or hit beneath the vest. 

Fll let my life speak for itself ; 

I'll rest at peace serene 
With naught to fear or dread altho 
My foes use paris green. 

You cannot say enough harsh things 
To make me “lose my goat;" 

Fll take abuse, a plenty man, 

And then give up my coat. 

Yea, tackle me with fouling blows, 

Yes, strike at me behind, 

And do your level best, dear sir, 

I will not wince or whine. 

■I'll not talk back or answer you; 

I'll work with might and main ; 

Altho you dirty me with mud, 

I'll wash my shirt again. 


KEEP MUM AND PLUG 


153 


Before I’ll answer slander’s tongue — 
Before I’ll make retort — 

I’ll let my life and manner, sir, 

Secure me as a fort. 

There’s one safe way to have no scars 
When gossip dogs your track, 

And that is just to bridle speech 
And do not answer back. 


154 


INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 


WE MUST SUFFER IF WE WIN 

Each sad misfortune, mistake, pitfall — 
'Are lessons needed, one and all. 

Man’s born in, travail, born in pain; 
And men successful, never gain 
Their power of strength to have and 
hold 

Who’ve not been valiant, brave and bold ; 
Who have not suffered, bled and died 
A thousand times — how oft they’ve 
tried ! — 

So when you think you are all in s 
Just grit your teeth and lift your chin, 
And know this day of torture, friend, 
Can never last — it too must end, 

And just beyond in shining gold 
You’ll be rewarded, many fold. 


i 55 


BY THE LIVING GOD I’LL WIN 

I’ve gone thru fire and water; 

I’ve smelt the fumtes of hell; 

Fve seen the flames of terror — 

I know their ways too well. 

My back has oft been broken; 

Bruised many times my shin, 

But by the living God, I swear, 

That I am bound to win ! 

I’ve stood alone, deserted; 

Fve sweat great drops of blood ; 
Fve seen the waves of failure 
Roll o’er me in a flood. 

I’ve felt the throbs of error; 

Cried out, “Fll sink or swim !” 

But by the living God, I swear, 

I’ll try again and win ! 

I’ve tramped the trails of sorrow; 

Fve waded streams of grief; 

And from the tree Misfortune, 

Fve stripped its every leaf. 

I’ve scaled the Mount Temptation ; 

Fve drank the dregs of sin. 

But by the living God, I swear, 

Fll try this time and win! 










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CHILD 

VERSE 





SLEEP DOLLY SLEEP 


“SIT be still, my dolly wants to sleep; 
He had an awful night of it, 

So I must now a vigil keep. 

That’s how my mamma used to sit 
And watch o’er me when I was ill, 
And you must know my dolly dear 
Needs mamma too to give it’s pill — 

0 it would cry if I’m not near. 

Sleep, my Dolly, sleep; 

For mamma’s here with you; 
Sleep, Dolly, sleep; 

I love you, yes, I do. 

“I rub its head, I rub its brow, 

1 feel its pulse, I tuck its feet — 

Sh’ my baby’s waking now 
And it must have a longer sleep. 

Sleep on my dear, my dolly, rest — 
And know your mamma’s watching you 
For you are safe as on my breast, 

'For mamma loves you, yes I do. 

Sleep, my Dolly, sleep, 

Sleep, my baby dear, 

Sleep, Dolly, sleep; 

There’s nothing now to fear.’’ 


160 


CHILD VERSE 


CUDDLE UP 

“When I cuddle up close to papa 
There’s nothin’ at all to fear ; 

I know he’ll love and protect me, 

And tenderly care for his dear. 

“When I cuddle up close to mamma, 
How sweetly I sink into sleep, 

I know no fear can beset me, 

For mamma her baby will keep. 

“Aye, keep me snug and protected, 
Protected from evil around, 

She’ll kiss and love, and keep me; 

So I sleep delightfully sound. 

“And when I grow up to be parent, 

I’ll love my little ones too, 

Teach them as God cares for the birds, 
He cares for His little ones too.” 


WHEN PAPA SHAVES HIS FACE 


You bet yer things are mighty still 
Around our yard and house; 

No one can move, not even me; 

Just quiet as a mouse, 

Because my Pa has got ter shave. 

He gets an awful case 
Of “Sh ! Hush up! “Please don’t 
move !” 

When Papa shaves his face. 

He gets his strap and “straps er up,” 
And tries to cut a hair 
To see how sharp the razor is — 

You’d think he was a bear 
The way he scolds, en knits his brow; 

He gets an awful case 
Of frowns en scolds of “Stop!” en 
“Don't!” 

When Papa shaves his face. 


162 


CHILD VERSE 


But we don’t mind, my Ma en me, 

We know the reason why 
He stamps his foot en says “Be still !” 

And heaves another sigh, 

ELn scolds en frowns; then starts to 
shave, 

He gets an awful case — 

“Now do be still” en “0 hush child !” 
When Papa shaves his face. 

He puts the lather on his face, 

En some gets in his ear; 

En often, gee! I have to laugh 
When he exclaims, “0 dear 
I wish I didn’t have to shave ! 

Why I would rather lace !” 

En then he gets some in his mouth, 
When Papa shaves his face. 

En then so solemn like en still, 

He draws the razor down 
En pulls some bristles off his face, 

0 then how he does frown! 

Why you would think he’d eat you up ; 

But pshaw, we know his case 
Of eat’en up — it’s all put on — 

When Papa shaves his face. 


WHEN PAPA SHAVES HIS FACE 


163 


“Now please don’t move or wiggle child, 
I have an awful time 
To cut the whiskers off my face 
To save another dime,” 

0 gee ! he scolds if I just breathe, 

He has an awful case, 

But me and Ma ain’t scared one bit, 
When Papa shaves his face. 

En when again the shaven’s done 
En he is spick en span, 

Why Mamma pats him on the face, 
Says he’s the nicest man; 

En she is right, yes Sir, I know! 

For say, that awful case 
Is just put on to make me still, 

When Papa shaves his face. 


CHILD VERSE 


RIDING PAPA’S BACK 

When I play horse — ride papa’s back — 
O yes, what lots of fun. ‘Get up!’ 
Some times he gets down on ‘all fours’ 
An then he rides me standin’ up. 

“He runs around and jounces me, 

0 yes, I laugh and hang on tight ; 
And ’nen he gives a kick, 0 my! 

’Nen throws me up, 0 what a fright ! 

“But you just bet I won’t get hurt, 
’Cause don’t you see he’s big and 
strong 

And wouldn t let his baby fall. 

He loves me— 0 about, this long. 

“An ’nen if he’s down on all fours 
He jumps about and trots around; 
An ’tends he’s goin’ to pitch and buck, 
And throw me far down on the 
ground. 

“I just hang on — ’get up — ’ and laugh, 
An grip real tight, like this — just so — 
But ’nen I know I’m safe and sound 
If he’s high up or way down low. 


RIDING PAPA’S BACK 


“I know my papa loves his child 
And wouldn’t ever let me fall, 

An so I kick him in the ribs 
An ’nen, ‘get up, git up !’ I call. 

“‘Git up, git up !’ 0 gee he’s balked. 

‘Say you go on — git up — you hear?’ 
But he has stopped, he’s balked again 
I see, it’s very, very clear. 

“‘Git up, git up, cluck, cluck, git up:’ 

He makes a pitch ’an nen he stops, 

I nearly tumble off his back, 

’Nen back and forth he moves and 
drops. 

“I laugh out loud and hang on tight, 

He keeps a whirlin’ round and 
round, 

O I’ve the bestest Dad what is — 

No better Dad was ever found ! 

“An when I grow to be a man 
An have a little boy — my Jack — 

You bet I’ll be a good Dad too 
And let him ride upon my back !’ 





















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SCLOW DOWN FER DER SAFETY 
ZONE 

Some pone head triver, triving py 
In an auto vagon, head up high, 

Coome round der corner schust like der 
vind 

Und hit a poy in der pack ca-ping! 

I dink he vas an Irish lad 
Dot rode so fast, schust like he’s mad ; 
Hes name I dink vas Mike Malone — 
Dot’s vat dey call him ven at home. 

He knocked der poy o’er der fence yard 
pack 

Und put on der gas to hes auto hack; 

He vent so fast — forty hours a mile — 
Dey could not catch him for quite a vile ; 
Up der country road und down der pike 
Schust like der lightning I don’t like, 
Ven he coom to der town, py shake! 

He had to schlow down, der corner to 
make, 

Dey caught him den — des Mike Ma- 
lone — 

Ven he hit a voman in der safety zone. 


170 


JINK 


BUYING A HAT 

“I'm here today to buy a hat, 

One that is worth the while. 

0 yes, madam, I want the best, 

One that's right up to style. 

“A green effect? I'm not quite sure,. 

I'm here to look around ; 

Perhaps a shade of green will do, 

If not perhaps, light brown. 

“If brown does not become my face 
Perhaps a shade of blue; 

0 yes, I've worn navy before 
And maybe that will do. 

“But if you please, I'd rather try 
A tint of red or pink — 

0 no, I never can wear that ! 

What kind? Why let me think. 

“I'll try this shade of green, I think. 

I did not want that kind? 
Perhaps, but don't you see, my dear 
I often change my mind. 


BUYING A HAT 


171 


“No that will never, never do ! 

I’ll try this one of grey — 

Oh horrors, who would ever think 
I’d look that old today? 

“Suppose I try this one in black, 
With trimmings front and side — 

For Goodness sake, I look as tho 
A relative had died. 

“Yes let me try ALL that you have 
For surely there are some 

Just made to suit my skin and face — 
Ah, how about this one? 

“Yes, this is it, I knew that here 
Fd find the proper thing — 

0 no! It flares too much in back 
And needs a bow or wing. 

“Suppose I try this one up here? 

It’s nobby and sedate ; 

0 yes, Fll take this one — But hold 
I think that I shall wait. 

“I thank you very kindly, dear — 

You might lay this away 

And if I don’t get suited, dear, 

1 11 call another day.” 


172 


JINK 


WHY IS A BACHELOR 

Say why do we have bachelors? 

Has often crossed my mind, 

And sometimes I have worried been 
For great men left behind. 

In reading over history 
My worry now I drop, 

And come to this conclusion; 

They were afraid to “pop.” 

There’s Pitt, the great, for instance, 
So deeply did he woo, 

He drank the health to one he loved 
From her neat lady’s shoe. 

“I’m wedded to my own country,” 
Said he; excuse “Old Top,” 

0 surely he had married, sir, 

But lacked the nerve to pop. 


WHY IS A BACHELOR 


173 


And now there’s Alexander Pope, 
A dozen loves he had, 

And every time that Pope did love 
It seemed he would go mad. 

In love, in youth, or in manhood, 
His head spinned like a top 
And yet he was a celibate — 

Had not the nerve to pop. 


Now Buckle might have married, too, 
The one he called his “dear,” 

But couldn’t keep a wife upon 
Three thousand pounds a year. 

So he did stay a bachelor, 

His love promptings he stopped, 
Because this great historian 
Had not the nerve to pop. 

There’s David Hook of bachelor-land, 
Proposal once did mail, 

But ere it reached her dainty hand 
His heart — or nerve did fail. 

This man of fame and great renown. 
His letter did then stop, 

Because, poor Mr. Hook, you see, 
Had not the nerve to pop. 


174 


JINK 


Now Gibbon, loved Susanna, dear, 

A most devoted swain — 

And when he gave her up, we’re told, 
He never loved again. 

She loved him too, and that deeply, 

His father said, “You stop !” 

So when he heard this grave command, 
He dared not" even pop. 

Again there’s Horace Walpole, 

Could not make up his mind — 

So many women did he love — 

Which one he should call, “mine.” 

0, such a sea of trouble, sore, 
Perplexity red hot ; 

He loved them all, at last crawfished, 
And never did he pop. 

Now David Hume was different — 

But only a wee bit, 

In that he popped the question, once — 
The shoe it did not fit. 

So when she said, “0 no, dear sir,” 

His heart right there did drop, 

And there it stayed rejected, weak; 
Once only dared he pop. 


WHY IS A BACHELOR 


175 


And then there is our Beau Brummel, 
He really asked to wed, 

But dared not run the chances grave ; 

Engagement broke instead. 

Just like the other single chaps — 

Rest of the bachelor crop — 

His nerve, you see, it weakened quite, 
Altho he really popped. 

Say why do we have bachelors? 

Has often crossed my mind, 

And some times Fve been worried sore 
For great men left behind. 

In reading over history 
My worry now I drop, 

And come to this conclusion : 

They were afraid to pop. 


176 


JINK 


AWFULLY UND VONDERFULLY 
MADE 

Dare’s many vonders in dis vorld, 

Inside und out of man ; 

Put vun dot makes my hair stand down 
I saw in “Uncle Sam/’ 

New York it vas, in der summer dime, 

I saw dis sight so queer; 

It nearly set me on my feet 
Or knocked me off der pier. 

I saw two sticks a-valking, yaw, 

Und each one had a shoe, 

Und up apove dare vas some silk 
Und a mouth dot chewed a chew. 

Und den grease paint — a pout a parrel — 
Und powder, och! so much; 

I taught I saw der Alps again 
Painted too queer to touch. 

On top dare was a punch of hair 
Likewise a lettle curl. 

Und vat you dink, py chimmany, Schake ! 
It really vas a girl ! 


THE TALKATIVE BARBER 


“I’m here to have a shave today, 

A quick one if you please, 

I have to meet a friend of mine — ” 
“Yes, it’s going to freeze.” 

“I want a shave, I tell thee, man, 
Without this pomp and feather \’ r 
And lo! he loiters slowly ’round 
And talks about the weather. 

“No hair cut now, I’m in a rush, 

I have a train to make.” 

“Ferhaps you’ll have a rub ?” says he, 
“0 no, for goodness sake!” 

“A shave today is all I want, 

I really haven’t time — ” 

But here he cuts me off and says, 

“A bath? The water’s fine.” 

Again I say, “Today a shave.” 

(The time is skipping fast) 

“What say you if I dye your hair? 
This color sure will last.” 


178 


JINK 


And then he says as slow he works, 
“A shampoo, sir, today ?” 

“No thank you, sir, a shave is all. ,, 
“A manicure, you say?” 

“Perhaps this tonic you might try? 

It’s just a brand new kind. — 

No tonic? Well, I say massage?” 
“Not now, no, never mind.” 

Before I’m shaved and leave his chair 
He’s talked me deaf, to sell 
Something I really didn’t want, 

And lost my train as well. 

Next time I have a train to catch, 

And on a hurried call, 

I’ll keep the whiskers on my face — 
Let him talk to the wall. 


FISHERMAN’S LUCK OR JUST THE 
TRUTH 


Of all the yarns the angler tells 
From wood and stream to hook — 

The one which makes your hair stand up. 
Is still there in the brook. 

He had it surely safe and sound 
(Securely on his hook) 

When with a mighty leap and bound 
It fell back in the brook. 

He never saw such whopper fish, 

It nearly broke his hook! 

The biggest fish he ever caught 
Is still there in the brook. 

He had it on his line secure 
Half way to home and cook. 

The biggest fish he ever caught 
Is still there in the brook. 

Yep, six feet long; weighed fifty pounds 
Because it broke his hook. 

The biggest fish he ever saw 
Is still there in the brook. 


180 


JINK 


“A monster sir, hey Jack, come here! 
Come quick! hurry and look! 

Oh pshaw ! the doggone biggest fish 
Fell back into the brook.” 

He often caught the biggest fish 
E’er seen in stream or nook! 

And yet the biggest fish he caught — 
Fell back into the brook. 

The biggest fish he ever caught 
In trailing with a hook — 

The biggest one in all the world. 

Is still there in the brook. 

Again he goes into the game 
And tells his friends and cook ; 

Again he caught the biggest fish 
But its — still in the brook. 

Way up in Maine or far down South, 
The biggest e’er he took 

From lake or pond, or running stream 
Is still there in the brook. 

And so ’twill be while men do fish 
With net and seine and hook, 

The very biggest doggone fish 
Will still be in the brook. 


VACATION TIME 


There’s been an awful grind all year 
At office or the desk, 

You need a rest or you will die — 

As again you peel your vest. 

You plan a splendid summer’s trip 
Off in a balmy clime, 

You’re going to have a real good rest — 
You’re sprinting all the time. 

You take the ship and “fade away,” 
You’ll rest here sure enough, 

But hardly have you settled down 
When up comes friend McDuff. 

A social game he’ll have with you. 

(No bids above a dime) 

You play until the sun is up — 

You’re sprinting all the time. 


182 


JINK 


But when you reach your camping 
ground 

Far from the maddening throng 
You’re bound you’ll get that rest you 
need 

Not even play ping pong — 

But pshaw ! you bump into some friends ; 

A mount they’re going to climb, 

Of course you don’t refuse to go — 
You’re sprinting all the time. 

You thought your work — your drud- 
gery — 

Was strenuous and tough 
But you awaken, all bunged up 
And feeling mighty rough; 

In fact by far you’re more tired out 
Than at your city grind. 

You left your work to take a rest — 
You’re sprinting all the time. 

There’re many things that you forgot 
In making out your trip — 

That you would here be on the run, 

No one gave you a tip ; 

There’s swimming beach and rowing 
boats, 

Each one so very fine. 

You’re tempted to indulge in all — 

You’re sprinting all the time. 


VACATION TIME 


183 


Your time is up, you go back home 
As tired, as tired can be; 

You call your doctor to consult 
And pay his handsome fee 
You don’t feel well; can he help you? 

“0 Yes !” his face doth shine, 

“You really need a rest,” he says — 
You’re sprinting all the time. 


184 


JINK 


I TWO HALF LOVED 

I lofed a girl in der long ago (Dree veeks 
pack.) 

Her heart vas like der snow. (It melted.) 

Und ven I spoke uf lofe, just so (Mid 
tears in der pack yard.) 

She said dot I could go. (Und I vent 
vunce.) 

I loved anodder girl der same (Two 
veeks pack.) 

Docile she vas und like vise tame (Dot 
is, I taught so.) 

Put since she married my goot name 
(At the marriage vow.) 

Py chin-ma-ney! she raise der cain. 
(Und I vas it, already.) 

If effer I should lofe vunce more (Put I 
von’t) 

I vill not lofe mid every pore (May pe.) 

I dink I do not as uf yore — (Vat's the 
use.) 

Propose mine lofe uppond der floor (Its 
der wrong vay to pegin.) 


CHRISTMAS GIFTS 


At Christmas dimes, I am beset 
Mid out und still mid in 

To know vot I can gife avay, 

Until my head do schwim. 

So vune fine tay pefore Christmas, 

I took myself to town, 

Und spent a whole tay und a half 
For shust to look around. 

I saw a dozen bargains, och, 

A dozen, aye, a score, 

Und vot I should py for mine self 
I could not dink no more. 

I passed der ten cent store pehind; 
Der counter mid der lace ; 

Und silks und junk, so much py schink 
I vas vite in der face. 

But ven I come pe side der store — 
Suspenders dare for sale, 

I said, “Py schinks ! right here I stop 
Mine face from turning pale.” 


186 


JINK 


Dey vas der finest suspenders 
Vot I haf ever seen, 

Dot sold for fifteen cents a pair 
Marked down from seventeen. 

All ofver tey was red und pink, 

Und mid a stripe of plue, 

Und ven I saw dot outfit vunce, 

I said, “Yaw dot vill do.” 

Six pairs of dem tings I bought me, 

Red und pink und plue 

Und made my way pack home some more 
Like poys mid prand new shoe. 

I tagged each bright suspender den 
(Dot red und pink und plue) 

Mid mine own card, und den I wrote, 
“Much joy and grief to you.” 

Vune pair I sent to Uncle Pill 
Und vune to Schon und Kate. 

To each vune of mine relatives 
I vun thru my life mate. 

Mine mate, mine vife, mine pigger half. 
Mine own, mine tootsie Sue, 

She packed dem up und said to me, 
“How taughtful, Hans, of you.” 


CHRISTMAS GIFTS 


187 


Vune year vent py already vunce, 

Dot Christmas mid der shocks ; 

Und from relations of mine vife 
Ve got a Christmas pox. 

From Uncle Pill, from Schon und Kate 
A present coome for me, 

Und all oxcited I vas vunce, 

Ven I opened for to see. 

Dare in der pox suspenders grand, 

Dot red und pink und plue, 

I found six pair und mine own card — 
“Much joy und grief to you/’ 


188 


JINK 


WHY MAN IS BALD 

Why man is bald has baffled him 
For ages — many years — 

And it has caused much querying 
And sighs, even to tears. 

Why he is bald ? I know the why 
And later will relate 
The reason he is minus hair 
On top of his bald pate. 

It’s not this here heredity, 

Nor dandruff nor disease, 

Because a hat band is too tight ; 

Tight scalp — no none of these. 

A man is bald, I know the why, 

And here I will declare, 

He's bald because, he’s bald because, 
He’s minus of some hair. 


THE SERVANT QUESTION AND 
HONESTY 


“Bridget, I want an honest girl, 

One who has never lied. 

My last maid could not tell the truth 
No matter how she tried. 

“Now many maids would suit me well 
Who’ve served me ere this day, 

But some would fib — 0 lie you know ! — 
You speak the truth alv^ay. 

“Remember that the Bible says, 

Thou shalt not surely lie 

So I'll expect you not to fib, 

You tell the truth or die.” 

But this fair dame who truth did seek. 
Spoke now as oft before — 

When in the midst of all of this, 

A knock came on the door. 

She peeked outside, saw Mrs. Brown, 
Her anger fairly foamed ; 

She told her maid to go and say, 

That, “I am not at home.” 


190 


JINK 


HORROR SCOPE 

Ven der clouds gather in der sky on dis date it ees 
a sign post cot the veather vill be vet if it 
rains tomorrow 

He who enters upon a political campaign today 
von’t likely know how de termintion of de 
end vill be undil election tay und den he may 
pe disappointed, vunce. 

Der man vat embarks upon a pizness ventur today 
vill get vat’s coming to him here or hereafter, 
but poth may pe some vat in doubt, so. 

Mining stock dot vas sold today vas porn mid pig 
stingers — you pe careful und not get stung. 

He vat es porn totay may expect great tings in der 
future such as car-punckles, poils und modder- 
in laws. 

Des is a pad tay to pe porn if you are a calf — you 
may pe canned, yet. 

Peoples porn on dis tay vill half lots of ups und 
downs in life if dey travel on der elevator. 

It is unlucky to pe porn a pig on dis tay for you 
may pe stuck in der future. 

It is unlucky to go to a circus tctay if vind storm 
comes up, und blows der tent over und hits 
you in der reserve seat. 


Every person can excel in some kind of work — 
have you found your work? ‘‘Pike’s Peak of Bust” 
can help you. 

May we send you a copy of “Pike’s Peak or 
Bust” or the “Possibilities of the Will” for a five 
days’ inspection without any expense to yourself? 

Sign below, get the book and after five days if 
do not want to keep it return at our expense. 


D. V. BUSH, Lake Preston, S. D. 

You may send me “Pike’s Peak or Bust” or the 
“Possibilities of the Will” for my inspection. It is 
understood that if I do not want to keep the book 
I may return the same within five days, at your 
expense. If I decide to keep “Pike’s Peak or Bust” 
I will remit $1.35. 

Name 

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